The Lost Years
Summary: After the war, Harry and Hermione's friendship was greatly altered. Now, five years later, they meet again for the first time and the flame begins to rekindle. H/Hr
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its affiliated characters. That all belongs to JK Rowling.
Author's Note: This is my first HHr story that does not involve any preconceived plot points from the books. In it, Harry and Hermione are about 22 or 23 and have a history much different from the one in Rowling's books. I do sincerely hope you enjoy this story, I know I'm having fun writing it. Thank you everybody!
One
I set my cup of coffee down and take my glasses off of my nose. With my left hand I squeeze the space between my eyes and try to get rid of my throbbing headache but it doesn't help, so I sigh deeply and lean back into my chair. My wild hair is falling out of its bun and is tickling my cheek but I ignore it and decide I can't sit here any longer, so I stand up quickly, grab my coffee, and bolt out the door.
The air is crisper than it was when I walked into The Three Broomsticks. I don't even know why I went inside. I haven't been to Hogsmeade since I was a student. Not really, anyway. The last time I was here I was with him and we were trying to escape some dementors. Maybe I just wanted to feel the nostalgia of it all. I smile to myself as I think this, but as I walk down the snowy pathway toward what used to be Ollivander's Wand Shop I start to regret my decision to come here at all. I've been doing fine trying to pretend I'm not part of this world anymore, and for five years now I have lived a comfortable life amongst Muggles and worked with a steady income. Who cares if dentistry is a rather trivial occupation compared to being part of the team of wizards who destroyed Lord Voldemort? That part of my life is over and I chose to walk away from it for my own reasons.
I pass the wand shop and fight the urge to glance inside. It's not Ollivander's anymore, but it's still the place eleven year old boys and girls go to get their first taste of the wizarding world. It's now owned by a different man with as much skill in wandlore as that wonderful old man had, and who, I'm sure, is just as capable of delivering the right wands to the proper children. I bite my lip to keep from looking inside and continue on, not quite sure where I'm heading.
I realize this is the stupidest decision I have ever made. Everywhere I go I keep expecting to run into someone from my past and I know if that happens I'll just get wrapped up in memories. Even so, my feet aren't turning around no matter how much my brain is telling them to abandon this stupid idea and go back home. I can feel the wind whipping at my cheeks and I feel the sting of the blush as it rises on my face but I press on and decide to walk into the bookstore. This is also a stupid decision.
The feelings that are coursing through my body are ones I haven't felt in over five years. It's a mixture of joy and pain, wonder and understanding, longing and distain. Part of me is afraid to take another step into the store but I do when a feel the hoard of new students trying to buzz pass me so they can get their textbooks. I watch them with the same feelings the bookstore is giving me and I feel tears threaten to escape. I forgot what crying felt like. Ever since that day I have been like a robot. I am suddenly way too overwhelmed by all these surges of emotions. My head is spinning and I feel nauseous but I take deep breaths to try and stop any projectile vomiting. I do not want to draw attention to myself. I stumble a little as I try to find a place to sit down and I bump into someone but I am too nauseous to say excuse me. I'm afraid if I open my mouth words are not what will come out so I move past the person and collapse on a footstool by some empty birdcages. I close my eyes and lean my back against the table they are resting on when a voice I once knew and chose to forget rang in my ears.
"Hermione?" it says. My eyes snap open and my heart drops to my stomach. I don't want to turn around and I still don't want to speak because the nausea hasn't gone away so I stay where I am. I hear footsteps get closer to me and my heart is beating so fast it's like it's going to pop out of my chest.
I see his shoes; brown, leather, with laces that are frayed slightly at the ends but are still shiny and durable. My eyes slowly work their way up from the ground and take note of his grey suit pants, his black belt, his white button up shirt and grey tie, but they come to rest on the collar of his shirt because I'm afraid to look into his eyes. He clears his throat and I take a deep breath. The nausea is at its highest point right now but I take the plummet and fix my chocolates on his emeralds. Yep, that's enough. I feel the puke spew out of my mouth and see them land on his grey pants, and the next thing I know I've passed out.
There is a light bugging me and my eyes flutter open. My head is still throbbing and I notice the nausea is gone, but I stay where I am in fear of it returning. I turn my head to the right and realize I have no clue where I am. Nothing surrounding me looks familiar at all. I have never seen that blue lamp sitting on that wicker end table and I have never been in a room with such decorative crown molding. I can't tell without my glasses, but it almost looks like it has carvings of the crests of the founders of Hogwarts on it. My nose twitches as I smell chamomile tea and I glance up, taking note of the never ending ceilings that rest above me. Suddenly he is there again with a wooden tray in his hand. I gulp.
"I brought you some tea, if you'd like." He tells me slowly and sets the tray on the coffee table in front of me. I stiffly nod and take a deep breath before sitting up. I feel the blood rush to my head and I'm about to fall over when I feel his strong arms on my shoulders, holding me up. I gawk at him and he pierces my eyes with his.
"I uh…" I start to say but I stop. My voice doesn't sound like mine. It's hoarse and distant, and I know my guard is up. Instead I force a smile and break my gaze with him, reaching for a mug. "Thank you." I say.
"You're welcome." He replies. This is so awkward. I don't take a sip of tea but I clutch the ceramic for dear life, praying that he leaves or this tension magically dies away. No, not magically. I don't like that word anymore. I run my thumb along the rim of the mug and swallow hard. He lets out a low sigh.
"Are you okay?" he asks. I look at him for a moment but the feelings are too overwhelming so I simply nod and finally take a sip of tea.
"Yeah," I begin, "I just ate something funny I think." I lie as I take comfort in the mug. I use it to hide my face as much as I can, and he grabs the other cup and leans into the couch as if it were his own. That's when I realize it probably is. I almost spit out my tea when I realize that means this is his flat and I'm a guest, but I stay aloof and we drink in silence. The awkward tension continues to grow and finally I can't take it anymore so I set the ceramic down and smile at him, still avoiding his eyes. "Thank you for helping me, really, but I should be going."
I start to stand up and debate about whether I should give him a hug or just flee the premises when I feel his hand on mind. It makes me jump and I feel goose bumps appear on my skin, and my eyes dart down to look at him for a moment before I have to look away. He tightens his grip a little.
"Hermione, wait…" he pleads. "Can we just, er, catch up for a bit?" His voice is strained and I feel my heart do a somersault, something it hasn't in five years. I know I can't deny him after that so I give a curt nod and sit back down. He is smiling like an idiot when I glance at him again and I can't help but let a laugh come out which makes him grin even wider.
"I missed that sound." He says to me. I feel my smile falter and my eyes meet his. They stay there for a moment longer than they have been and I feel my mouth go dry. He has tears brimming in his eyes and I feel some start in mine as well. He eyes me carefully, the tears not falling. "How've you been?" he asks. I smile.
"Good." I tell him. He nods and smiles back.
"Good." He answers and I know it's my turn in this game we're now playing. I bite my lip.
"What about you?" I ask him. He shrugs.
"Can't complain. Ron comes by a lot and we go play recreational Quidditch with the guys on Wednesdays. That's always fun. I wrote a book about defense and magic, and it's doing pretty well. They want to use it as a textbook this year. That's why I was at the bookstore, I was doing a signing." He tells me enthusiastically. Oh, so that's how he wants to play –with details and excitement and with such a friendly atmosphere it feels like I never left. I smile as I acknowledge these rules and lick my lips to prepare a better answer to his next question. "What do you do now? Y'know, for a living?" he asks. My eyes still can't look at him for longer than a moment but I give him a glance anyway, hoping he understands I'm not trying to be rude. I just can't handle the emotions that pulse through me when I take note of his eyes, his jawbone, or his broad shoulders and muscular arms. It's not just his physical appearance that makes me feel so small when I look at him. It's the way he is looking at me and the memories that rise up again if I look at him for too long. They scare me, and I have done a really good job trying to forget them. Suddenly I feel a tingling sensation in my stomach and the nerves are going wild. This is a bad idea. I start to feel claustrophobic and I shake my head violently as I stand up and head toward the door. He watches me.
"I have to go. I'm sorry, I just…I have to go." I stutter and reach for the doorknob. He rushes in front of me and stares me down with a fire in his eyes. I haven't felt this tiny since that day five years ago and I am trembling as I try to reach past him for the doorknob but his hand covers mine and stops my movements. The tears I was holding back are falling now and I let out a sob of my own and once again try to move past him. "Let me go."
"Not yet." He demands. My sobs are uncontrollable now and I don't even know why I'm crying so hard, but he cups my face in his hands. The moment his skin touches mine I feel an electric shock radiate from his fingers and I want to pull away. Something has me latching on to his touch, though, and suddenly I squirm because I want to be closer to him not because I want to break free. Against my heart, my head starts to scream at me to just leave and not to get wrapped up in this again, but I can't think straight anymore as his thumb brushes the tears off of my face. "Why did you come back, 'Mione?" he whispers. The words sound so delicate and I fear that I may break them if I answer too harshly. I shake my head and try getting my grasp back but he is staring at me with that look, the one that always melted my heart. His eyes are ten times greener than they ever have been and I become entranced. "Why did you come back, please…" he says desperately. Tears are falling down his face too and for the first time in five years I think maybe my leaving was just as hard for him as it was for me. I push that thought from my mind instantly. There is no way he felt anywhere near the agonizing pain I did. He had Ginny to keep him company, and from what he says about Ron and the boys he is obviously very social. I can't make friends. I have been a hermit for five years working a job I hate, and every day my dreams are plagued with images of the man standing before me. I have no friends. I have no…
I can't even think it because that makes it as real as saying it out loud would. He seems to be able to read my mind and I feel his arms wrap around me in a warm embrace. For a moment, I feel nothing but bliss and I almost inhale deeply so I can smell my favorite scent in the world, but something stops me. Logic finds its way back to me, finally, and I pull away from him quickly and wipe the tears from my face. I look at him now firmly, pushing the feelings and memories back into their cage as I let out a shaky breath.
"I…It's time to leave." I say. "Goodbye." With that I push past him and open the door, slamming it shut behind me. I hurry down the stairs and walk down the street with tears still flowing down my face and I stop at a streetlamp. I let out a sob and fall to the ground, my back up against the metal post with my hands running through my messy hair. It must have fallen out of its bun at some point. The night sky is crystal clear and a thousand stars are staring down at me, and to me it seems like they are judging my return. I let out a shaky breath and close my eyes. The back of my head hits the metal and I register a small pain but I don't think much of it.
I just saw Harry. It doesn't seem real to me and I bite my lip so hard blood trickles down. I curse myself for ever thinking coming back was a good idea. Yes, it's true that loneliness was taking its toll on me, and yes, it's true I was feeling weighed down by the simplicity of my everyday life. For seven years I was part of a trio that stood up against evil and outsmarted some of the world's greatest villains, and being a dentist just doesn't add up. I remember the day I left like it was yesterday. There was a point in my life when I thought being part of that trio was endangering too many people, and as I lean against the lamppost my thoughts travel back to five years ago.
The war had just ended. Among the ruins of Hogwarts' castle I stood beside my best friend as he repaired his wand. He looked to me and Ron before he broke the Elder Wand in half and threw it over the edge of the bridge. I reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze, and for the first time in months we all let out a sigh of happiness and rejoiced in a bone crushing hug.
Ron pulled away first and left to go find his family. They had lost Fred and he knew they needed to be together, and Harry and I felt that we needed to give the Weasleys some space. We sat down on the edge of the bridge and didn't say anything. Harry looked at me and put his arm around me. I leaned in to his touch and my head rested on his shoulder.
"Thank you, 'Mione." He said. I smiled and looked up at him, my hand resting on his.
"Time of my life, Harry." I said with a smile. He laughed lightly and kissed the top of head. It was something he had never done before but for some reason it felt right, and I smiled even wider. He didn't stay there much longer and soon he left to go see if Ginny needed him.
Ginny. My heart sinks as I think about her. We haven't spoke in five years, not since I left. Sighing, my mind wanders back to the day Voldemort was killed.
I watched Harry get up and walk away from the rubble on the bridge toward to open doors where Ginny was waiting for him. I stood up slowly and followed him inside, where I was greeted by Neville and Luna who were rattling on about something or other. My eyes kept scanning the room for Harry. This was absolutely the most terrifying day of my life, and for some reason all I wanted to do was hold on to him forever and never let go.
I found him later by the door to Dumbledore's office. I walked up to him and I said nothing, but my hand found his and he pulled in for a hug. We stayed that way for a while, still not speaking, until Ginny arrived and stared at me with a fire in her eyes. I let go of Harry immediately and walked away as his girlfriend started to stake her claim, and as I looked back I saw Harry watching me as Ginny shoved her tongue down his throat. I gave him a small smile before I left, but my heart felt like it was breaking.
This is stupid, I thought to myself. You don't love Harry. You can't. I told myself that over and over as I walked back toward the Grand Hall. I knew it was a lie. Those months when Ron was away I had been the person to hold him as his scar burned at night. Those months had shown me something I had been missing for years. I had told him maybe we should just stay in the forest and grow old, and he had shaken it off like it was just something I said. I had meant it, though. I had seen him at his worst and at his best, and I thought he was radiant in everything he did.
He was with Ginny, though. Ginny, my only girlfriend. I couldn't bring myself to accept my feelings for him without feeling like I was stabbing her in the back. So I pushed them aside. That all changed when he left to the Forbidden Forest and faced Voldemort one on one. The feelings came flooding out of me in the form of tears, and for the first time I let myself say the words I hadn't dared to say, even if only to myself.
"I love Harry Potter."
The memories of that night start to make my head throb, and I bang it against the lamppost one more time for good measure. The air is getting colder and I start to shake a little as I sit on the ground. I feel the tears fall again when I think about the night it all changed, two weeks after the final battle. I'm about to let myself get lost in the feeling of regret when I hear footsteps behind me. I stay right where I am, worried if I get up too quickly I'll draw attention to myself.
"You're going to catch a cold." His voice says. I stiffen and don't move. He comes and sits down next to me. "I can't watch you walk away, 'Mione. Not again." He tells me. I inhale deeply and fight back the tears.
"How's Ginny?" I ask. Harry shrugs.
"Wouldn't know." He tells me. I look at him in surprise. "We broke up." I feel my heart tighten and guilt fills my entire body.
"Is that because of…." I start to say, my breath quickening. Harry looks at me.
"No." he says firmly. "Just wasn't right." I bite my lip and nod my head.
"And Ron?" I ask. Harry smiles.
"Same. He's coming over tomorrow if you…well, if you want to come back and see him." His voice is hesitant and his eyes are avoiding mine as he waits for my answer. I take another deep breath and let it out slowly trying to steady myself.
"Okay." I say, my heart beating rapidly. He looks at me.
"You mean it?" he says slowly. I nod my head and give him a shaky smile.
"Yeah." I tell him. He swallows hard and bears his eyes into mine. I look away quickly.
"Tomorrow, then." He says. He gets up and walks away, giving me one last look before he pushes the door open and disappears inside. I stay by the lamppost for a moment before I shake my head, trying to understand why I just said yes. I stand up slowly and begin to walk away, but not before looking at Harry's flat to note the address and the street. I sigh once more and turn away, ready for the night of sleep I know I'm not going to get.
A/N: Thank you everyone for tuning in! Next chapter will be up shortly.