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The war with Voldemort ended several years ago, and the side of the light came out on top. It has been years since anyone has seen him, and then one day, he emerges.
Walking down Diagon Alley, the tall, lean, black-haired man in his early twenties walked slowly, deep in thought and remembrance. It was a chilly autumn afternoon. This time of year always reminded him of his first year at Hogwarts School of Wizardry, nearly ten years ago. The brisk fall air, the different smells that lingered there, and the sights that came along with autumn always warmed his heart and brought a smile to his face. Lately, though, he hadn't been in the mood to smile. Perhaps this trip to Diagon Alley, and in essence, Memory Lane, would change that. As least his memories wouldn't hurt him--at least memories of this particular place wouldn't hurt him, that is. Certain memories that swam in his head made him wish for death and the end to his existence. Others eased the pain of the painful memories and gave him slight hope for his future. At least it was a future void of a certain dark lord. This Boy-Who-Lived, now the Man who lived to seek revenge, had vanquished his nemesis, but in the process, had created a world in which he was alone. Now he was truly alone.
The young man watched as various wizards and witches walked here and there, carrying bags and bundles and books in their hands, hurrying off to wherever their lives called for them to be. The leaves upon the trees were already beginning to change colour and fall. As the wind blew, a few of these lost leaves blew with it. The lean young man studied the way the street was slowly becoming empty, and the wizards and witches went into their respective stores and shops.
As he stepped in front of the the Three Broomsticks, his mind wandered to happier times. Memories flooded his mind--these memories brought him back to when he was younger and came to the Three Broomsticks with his friends, Ron and Hermione. He remembered their trips while they were in school, and how they were always so excited to leave the school grounds even for a few hours. He glanced at a particular booth at which he, Ron and Hermione would sit for hours discussing their latest conspiracy theory, or problem. The young man couldn't help but smile at the thought of the three of them sitting there, talking in hushed voices, and sipping on butterbeer. A sudden gust of wind blew by, causing his thoughts to be forgotten for the time being and necessitating the young man to smooth out his hair to cover his lightning bolt scar on his forehead. He readjusted his circular glasses upon the bridge of his nose, and then continued his walk.
Passing another shop he had memories of, he smiled to himself as his mind raced back to that happy time--when he was a student at Hogwarts and shared enjoyable moments with his friends. He could almost see them picking out their books with him. Hermione would already have her nose in the thickest book she could find, while Ron would try to search for a used copy of a necessary book for one of his courses. Those times were gone now, he thought sadly. Those times were of the best of my life. And they are now gone...
He continued his walk silently. He walked for what felt like ages, until the afternoon sun melted away and the autumn moon popped up to greet the night dwellers. By the time he noticed the time, most of the shops on Diagon alley were closed for the evening, with the exception of The Three Broomsticks. He realised that he had been walking around in a continuous circle around Diagon Alley, passing the same shoppes four or five times, then turning back again and returning to his original spot. He looked up to where his feet had brought him. The wooden sign flapped slowly in the evening breeze. The Three Broomsticks would be a good place to warm up, and then return home. He pushed open the oak door and stepped inside.
Entirely wooden, and slightly dilapidated, the bar was still as he remembered from his time there, all those years ago. He walked over to the barkeep. It wasn't anyone that he recognised, but the bartender definitely recognized him. He tipped his hat at the young man, and said that anything he wanted was on the house. Waving his thanks, the young man ordered a pint of butterbeer for old times' sake and sat at the special booth he and his friends would always sit at.
The butterbeer was served to him hastily, and he sipped a bit before a familiar voice called out his name from behind him.
"Harry?"
It had been a while since anyone addressed him by that name.
He turned around to see the breathtaking sight of Hermione Granger smiling at him. She had aged slightly, though her eyes still held that youthful glow and fierce intelligence that they always had. Her hair flowed behind her as she nearly toppled him over with her hug. He welcomed the hug, and embraced her as a lost soul who had just found a piece of himself. He breathed in her scent as they embraced. When the embrace ended all too soon, Hermione cocked her head at him, smiled and said: "We all thought you would never come back to us. After all that happened..." quietly. He held both her hands in his. Looking down at them, he inhaled deeply, and began.
"I had a lot of things to think about. And I didn't know if I should come back, Hermione. After all that I did..."
"We all know why you did what you did. It wasn't easy, but you had to do it, for the good of the wizarding community at large." She frowned and stroked Harry's hands soothingly, though she was the one who needed to be soothed at this moment. Tears were forming in her eyes now. "Ron understood. He knew you had to...we all miss him, but we miss you, too. We've missed you and Ron terribly ever since you destroyed Voldemort...I've missed you so much, Harry." Her gaze met his again, and she saw that there were tears in Harry's eyes, too. As a tear fell from one of Hermione's worry-stricken eyes, Harry swept it away with one gentle finger, and let his hand linger upon her cheek.
"And you have no idea how much I've missed you, Hermione. I've been so alone these last few years. I've been...dead inside." She stared at him with a sadness that could not be expressed in words. Well, at least, not eloquently.
"You must come back with me to Ron's house. I've been living there ever since that night my parents were killed. Ron's mum and dad took me in like one of their own. Bill's had another daughter. She's a darling, Harry. And Fred and George's business has been flourishing to no end. Ginny has been travelling the world, and, well, I've been working for the Ministry of Magic as an Auror. Please come back with me. Molly will be ecstatic to know that you're alright!" She pleaded with him, nearly pulling his hands as she spoke. He smiled sadly.
"You know I can't do that, Hermione. What if Draco returns? What if I lead him right to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's house? I can't have more death on my conscious, except of course for Malfoy's..." He pulled his hands out of her grasp and began walking towards the door to the bar. Hermione, left in her place in shock, realised he was walking out of her life again, and this time, she wouldn't let him leave this way. She ran to him as he exited the bar. Once outside, the chilly autumn air stung her slightly. She pulled her coat collar up around her face and shouted, "Stop!". Harry turned around to look at her.
"Molly will want to see you. Please come back with me, at least for a night, to show them that you are alright...!" Hermione was determined not to make this about her. He hesitated for a moment, then said, "You know why I can't Hermione. I'm sorry." With that, he turned again and continued on his way.
"What about Hagrid? Don't you want to see where he is?" She called again.
He turned his head slightly and replied, "I've already said my good byes to him when he died." Hermione knew that she had to stop him from leaving again. She had a feeling that if he left, it would be forever this time.
She panicked, and cried out, "You can't leave me again, Harry. It nearly killed me the first time. The second will surely do the trick." These words worked on him, for he stopped dead in his tracks. He turned around, and walked purposefully back towards her, with curiosity on his face.
"What?" He asked once he had reached her again. She stumbled, but had to tell him.
"Harry, I need you. You can't just come here, say hello, and then leave again. That is ridiculously cruel." He stared blankly at her. "Are you listening to me, Harry Potter?" She cried, grabbing him by the shoulders. His face suddenly softened in realisation. He smiled, placed a hand upon her cheek. The touch sent waves of warmth through her body. "Yes I am, Hermione." He said simply, then leaned in and placed his lips upon hers, in a kiss of passion and need. She was surprised at first and then wrapped her arms around his neck and drank him in. He rested his other hand upon her waist, pulling her closer to him. He felt a sense of belonging and joy where there was nothing only an hour ago. As they released each other, he allowed his arm to encircle her waist, and made sure that she was as close to him as possible.
"Hermione, you know that I would want nothing more than to stay here with you and the Weasleys, but I can't. The fear of getting you or any of them killed is too much for me to bear."
Hermione shook her head quickly.
"Fine. Then I want to go with you." He furrowed his brows.
"Are you sure? I don't stay in one place for very long."
"As long as we are together, that's all that matters." She again hugged him.
"I can't argue with you..." Harry mused. "Then I'll be here waiting for you to pack your things and..."
"Harry, I don't need any material possessions. I have my wand, and I have you. We'll send them an Owl from wherever we end up. Let's just go now." She said excitedly, as if it were a vacation she was going on. Harry thought for a split second, then smiled.
"Whatever you say, Hermione." He took her hand. "By the way, you know that I love you, right?" He asked softly. She smiled, the tears forming in her eyes once more.
"I've always known. And I love you even more, Harry Potter." Hermione smiled and squeezed his hand in hers.
He kissed her hand and walked with her towards their destiny.
