Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Compeition by Beater 1 of the Appleby Arrows.
Prompts:
"Is your heart filled with pain, shall I come back again?" (From Elvis Presley's 'Are You Lonesome Tonight?')
(word) delicate
(scene) a dance between two characters
(quote) 'Women are made to be loved, not understood.' - Oscar Wilde
He shouldn't have been surprised when she left him.
Well, when she left them. But it hurt to think that even he wasn't a good enough reason for her to stay. Even after all the efforts he had put trying to piece her back together after the war.
The first thing they did was they went to find her parents in Australia, and give their memories back. It was horrible from the start. Her parents, while very happy with their new lives, would not be able to retrieve back their memories that included their precious daughter, as Hermione had taken too much. With research, they found that the more that was taken, the more it would hurt when given back. Seventeen years of memories would make any average wizard suffer and would surely kill a muggle. So they left, Hermione even more depressed than she had been during the war.
He had tried to do something more and thought helping her find a job would be perfect for her, that way she could drown herself in work and not think about the unfortunate loss of her parents. However, for the first time in probably ever for her, she had no motivation to work. All she did was stay all day in her bed (technically one Harry owened, as she was staying with him at Grimmauld Place) and read her books. Determined not to fail at making his best friend happy again, he happily took note in all of her books pertaining to traveling around the world.
So he stopped his life and took her around the world. Wherever she said she wanted to go, he took her: Spain, Thailand, France, Ireland, Scotland, the Americas, hell, they even went to Antarctica! He thought that he had made her happy again, as she was all smiles and laughter for the most part. Until one night they were on the Caribbean beach.
He remembered that day so perfectly, vividly. There she was: sat on the sand with her knees tucked under her chin, and her arms wrapped around her legs. Her hair was pulled back into some messy nest, strands coming out and blowing around in the wind. She was watching the gorgeous sunset with sorrow filled eyes, and it hurt him so much to see her like that. To see her looking so delicate. He wanted to turn back, sure that she would not want his company (she never did when she was upset) and in the back of his mind he was reminded of a lyric to something so familiar, yet he couldn't remember the song or the moment.
"Is your heart filled with pain, shall I come back again?"
He hummed the tune, forgetting that he was trying to sneak back unnoticed by Hermione, but she heard him and turned towards him with those sad, sad eyes. They locked gazes for a moment, before she did the last thing he was expecting. Getting up slowly, she smiled. It was small, but it was there. She faced him, inches apart, and grabbed for his hand with hers, putting her other one on his shoulder.
She wanted to dance.
So they did, both playing the same song in their heads until he finally remembered where he had heard it before. Why, it was the first time they had danced together - when they were camping out in the woods searching for Horcruxes during the war. They had danced all night, to a variety of magical and muggle songs, but he knew this one because it had been the one she had started to cry to.
o.O.o
"I miss Ron," she had said, her head laying on his chest. He ignored the stabbing pain he felt hearing that.
"I know," he whispered into her ear.
"I hate him," she started again, and this time he couldn't ignore the hope that lit within him.
"I know that, too."
She had looked up at him, eyes still teary, but with a smile on her face. "Well, well, well, seems I'm not the only know-it-all after all."
He didn't know what to say, so he just let his body do the talking for him, which in retrospect was probably not the best idea.
But he kissed her anyways.
It was a short and quick, so quick that Hermione could barely tell it happened. When she looked up at him, mouth wide, she could tell his face turned from calm to immediately defensive, as if he didn't know what to expect from her.
"Harry..." she whispered, "you have Ginny." And that's all that was said about it, because he never took the time to respond.
o.O.o
It didn't change the fact, though, that Harry Potter was in love with Hermione Granger and had been for years. So he never thought anything could feel worse than what he had felt at the moment. He was wrong. Her leaving him would be the worst pain he could ever imagine, and he had been through hell and back too many times in his lifetime.
So in that moment, where they were dancing on the beach to nothing except the sounds of crashing waves and music playing in their heads, he made the same mistake he had all that time ago, and kissed her again.
Hermione pushed him away and shook her head. "No, Harry I-I can't do this." She turned to runaway from him, but he beat her to it by grabbing her arm, gently holding on.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to - no, I'm not going to say that. I did mean to. Bloody hell, Hermione, I'm in love with you! How can you not see that! Why can't you feel the same?"
She looked at him with sympathetic eyes, "It's not that. You don't deserve me."
He was confused at her words.
"You don't deserve someone that acts the way I do, that can't ever be truly happy again," she explained. "There's something wrong with me! And no matter what you do, you can't fix it. You need to let me go, Harry."
"No."
"Harry -"
"I said NO! I did not lose almost everyone I've ever cared about for the love of my life to turn me down. I deserve to be happy, you deserve to be happy -"
"Don't you get it? I'm broken! I can't be happy!"
He reached up to touch her face, but she recoiled away. "We can get you help, it's post-traumatic stress from the war, many people go through it."
"It won't work."
"You can't say it won't work before you've even tried!"
"I don't need to try to know that it won't help!"
Tension filling the silence between the two young adults, Harry took a deep breath. "Okay," he said. "We can figure this out another day, we're still not done discovering our world. But can you promise me that you'll at least try? I'll be there every step, I promise I won't leave you."
She had nodded to him that night, before they had headed back to their hotel room for bed. Little did he know that it wasn't she that should have been worried about him leaving her, rather it was Harry that should have been worried about Hermione leaving him. Which is exactly what happened when he woke up the next morning, to find her gone without even a note.
But he really should have seen it coming.
o.O.o
A year later Harry was in a random pub in London, having a drink with Ron. Auror training was tough and they had finally got the weekend off, as it was around Christmas time. He was feeling lonely, as he usually did (no matter how many women threw themselves at him) and was thinking about a certain curly-haired witch.
"Stop it," Ron ordered, not even trying to be the least bit sensitive.
Harry rolled his eyes. "You're going to have to specify. Stop what? Stop drinking? Isn't that why we're here?"
"Humor doesn't become you. You know what I meant. Stop thinking about her."
"I can't help it," Harry murmured against his glass.
"There are at least ten other girls in here that wouldn't say no if you asked them to dance or even something more," Ron stopped to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively at Harry, who pushed him away.
"I don't care."
"I don't even know why you care so much. Sure she left you, but she also left us! She obviously didn't care about us. But you know what I say? Good. She was too confusing to understand -"
"Because she actually used her wits?"
" -And you know what's great about these girls in here? They're too drunk to be confusing!" Ron continued.
Harry sighed. ''Women are made to be loved, not understood," he quoted.
"And how'd you come up with that?" Ron snorted.
He pursed his lips at Ron, "I didn't," he started, "Oscar Wilde did."
"Who?"
It was minutes after that where Harry had just decided to give up and make a visit back to Grimmauld, where he could actually have a nice, quiet night.
He didn't want to think about training. He didn't want to think about the press that had been badgering him about his relationship status. He didn't want to think of his friends who were always trying to get him to get over Hermione, as if they weren't all great friends with her before the war. And he especially didn't want to think about Hermione having have left him for Merlin knows where, or worse, who.
Interrupting his thoughts, he heard the newly installed telephone in the house start to ring, and slunk his way to answer it.
"What?," he snapped, it was probably someone just trying to annoy him anyway.
"Harry..." a voice started from the other line.
As if a bucket of cold water was poured on him, Harry was visibly and mentally alerted. "Hermione," his voice cracked.
"Harry," she started again, "I want to come home. Take me home, please. I can't take it anymore."
He was speechless.
"Harry... please," she sobbed on the other end. "I belong home, I belong with you. I'm ready to try to be happy again."
And so he found her somewhere in the States and brought her back, both of them ready to be happy again.
I know the ending seems very fast paced and short, but this one-shot wasn't about them being together so I didn't want to focus on writing that. I also made the choice of not using Harry's name until Hermione addressed him in their dancing scene, as I wanted readers to use their imagination while reading this. Originally, I wasn't going to use his name at all, but I changed my mind after I realized I wanted it to be clear that this was a Harmony one-shot. Thank you so much for reading!