Hermione pulled the string, letting the dust fall
onto her soft brown hair, speckling it with grey as though she was an old
woman. She blew her wispy bangs out of her face and yanked the stairs down.
She slowly unfolded them and climbed up, her white sneakers clicking on
the wooden boards.
It was dark and dusty in the attic, and she coughed
loudly, sending sprays of dust around her. Hermione flicked the light switch,
illuminating the small room in golden light. She walked over to a pile
of boxes, reading the labels out loud. "Quilts...old computer...bookshelf..."
She sighed and turned around, finally spotting the box in a particularly
dusty and dark corner of the room.
Hermione ran across the shaky floorboard, kneeled
down and wiped the dust away. "Winter clothes." She breathed, grabbing
the edges of the box and yanking. It flew out, and she landed on her back,
rocking on a creaking floorboard, the box clutched to her chest, and a
cloud of dust surrounding her.
She sat up and set the box down, looking over at
the stack she had pulled it out of. She looked at the other three boxes,
reading from top to bottom. "Bathing suits, mom's antiques," Slowly her
eyes trailed to the last box and slowly, softly, as though she was whispering
to a stranger in the dark, she read, "Hogwarts Memories."
It was four years ago that she had graduated from
Hogwarts as Head Girl. Her two best friends were Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.
Ron was dead, and Harry? Harry had disappeared as an Auror. She cried every
time she thought about either of them. Every time she thought about the
memories of Hogwarts, all the lives taken, all the lives ruined, all the
misery she cried. That's why Hermione had left England and lived in a secluded
part of Northern Ireland. It was futile attempt to escape the pain and
memories of her seven years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Hermione felt her cinnamon brown eyes fill with tears
as she read the label over and over again. She licked her lips as she tried
to decide whether to run away and leave this box up in the attic, all the
happy memories covered in dust, or take it, and face them as icy tears
rushed down her cheeks,
Slowly Hermione set down the box full of winter clothes
and crawled forward. With a deep suck of breath inward she grabbed the
box and pulled it from underneath the others. While tears flooded down
her cheeks at the terror of opening the box and being swamped with the
sad and happy memories of her past, she picked it up slowly and walked
back down the stairs.
Gingerly she pushed open her light purple bedroom
door and walked over to her bed, covered in down comforters and silk pillows.
Crookshanks lay on her bed, old, but still very alive and very happy. "Hey
Crookshanks. Good boy." She said, softly stroking his fur before setting
the box down on her bed.
Hermione pulled her car keys out of her pocket and
sliced the brown tape open. A puff a dust covered her reading glasses,
and she pulled them off her face and tossed them on the floor. She closed
her eyes, took a deep breath, and looked into the box.
It was like being at Hogwarts again. She pulled her
willow wand out of the box and waved it gently around. A tear dripped onto
her bed as purple light shone from the end of the wand. It was like she
was a witch again, a real true witch with a wand and a quill and spell
books. She smiled at Crookshanks, who looked up, remembering the purple
glow of her wand from years and years ago.
Next Hermione grabbed a stack of books including
Hogwarts,
A History , Exploring the Dark Arts, and Arithmancy Around
the World. She smiled, remembering being the smartest girl at Hogwarts.
She was Head Girl, envy of everyone who...well, wanted to be smart.
Hermione tossed her long black school robe onto her
pillow and pulled out the last item, a photo album. On the cover was her,
four years ago, smiling a sweet smile, her wand in her hand, her hair in
french braids, a wizard hat perched on her brown hair. She blew the dust
off the red cover and smiled at herself.
The smile faded as she opened the book and saw immediately
a picture of her, Harry, and Ron sitting on the front steps of Hogwarts.
Tears welled in Hermione's brown eyes, threatening to shower the page.
She read the caption to her self, her mouth forming the words "Dream Team:
5th year."
As fast as possible she flipped through the pages.
She paused on pictures of Lavender, her arm swung over Dean Thomas and
Seamus
Finnagin, Colin Creevy, Professor Dumbledore, and everyone she could bear
looking at. If she found a picture of George, Ron, Harry, or Ginny, tears
began to drop onto the pictures, smudging their smiling faces.
Hermione took a deep sigh and let herself look at
the last page of the book, with what should have been the best picture
of all. It showed her and Harry kissing passionately. She almost smiled,
even though tears were rushing down her cheeks at the way his hand fit
so perfectly on her back, her hand was coming up slowly to block the camera.
Ron was sitting on a couch, his arm wrapped around Lavender, laughing.
Whoever was taking the picture's fingernail was visible, and it was so
obviously Ginny Weasly. She sniffled, snapped the book shut, and dropped
it in the box, scaring Crookshanks so her ran down the hall.
I can't take it. She thought slowly. I
need to know where Harry is, I can't always hide from the past. With
a sigh, she pulled the album out of the box and set it on her night stand
where her tissues, alarm, and water glass sat. She wiped her eyes and nose
with a tissue and took a sip of water. It was time to face the past.
~**~
Hermione yawned and stretched as her alarm blared.
She hit the off switch and checked the time. It was 7: 50, time to get
up and go to work at the library. She was the director of the Portrush
Public Library, and was paid a fortune to work there. She rolled her eyes
at her own stupidity. It was Sunday, the only day she didn't have
to work.
She rolled out of bed and wiped her eyes. Crookshanks
stirred at the foot of her bed, but kept tight in a ball. Hermione opened
her closet, shrugging and pulled out a pair of bell bottom jeans with embroidered
legs and a simple blue sweater. She changed quickly, pulled her socks and
shoes on, and stood in front of her mirror. She didn't know why, but she
wanted to look nice. She pulled her hair into a quick bun and put on golden
lip gloss.
Hermione waved a quick goodbye to Crookshanks, grabbed
her coat, and headed out the door into the icy November winds. She bent
her head, her brown hair flying behind her, with no concept of where she
was headed. She walked for at least an hour, until, tired, she collapsed
on a bench. She leaned her head back, laid down, and closed her eyes.
"Excuse me Miss." A voice that sounded oddly familiar
said. "Could you please move?" Hermione opened her eyes slowly and sat
up, turning sideways.
"Sorry." Hermione replied softly.
"Don't worry. I've just been walking a long way."
He replied, not looking at Hermione, but across the street to a park where
the leaves were turning golden shades.
"Me too. Do...I know you?" She asked.
"No...I'd remember you. You're too beautiful." Hermione
could see a hint of a warm smile on his face, even though he was barley
looking at her. He looked up suddenly, catching Hermione's eyes with his
brown ones. "What would your name be?" He asked softly, almost like he
was afraid of the answer.
Hermione swallowed. "Hermione...Hermione Granger."
"Hermione..." He looked at her with his brown eyes,
and Hermione seemed to recognize him. His smile was so warm, so kind, and
his eyes were brilliant and glowing. She licked her lips slowly, and moved
a little close to him, to get a good look into his brown eyes.
Hermione took a sharp intake of breath. "Oh dear
God...Harry Potter. It's you." There was no mistake. No matter what color
his eyes happened to be, she could never forget them. The way they penetrated
her soul, made her smile, made her cry, and how she knew from the first
time she looked into his emerald green eyes that she would love him forever.
His eyes widened and her pulled down the hood of
his jacket, revealing a mess of black hair. "Hermione...it's me..."
Hermione felt tears welling up in her eyes. She buried
her face in her hands and spoke through them, her voice choked with sobs.
"You're back. After all these years...you're back. I didn't know what happened
to you. You're alive! You left me here for no reason, with no one!" She
took a deep breath, looked into his eyes, and continued. "Harry, I loved
you. I trusted you. When you left to become an Auror or whatever the heck
you did, I was heartbroken. And you're alive, right here, right now. I
really don't know how I feel about this..."
Harry could feel tears in his own eyes, forcing the
brown contacts out of his eyes and into his hands. He threw them on the
ground. "Hermione...I had to. I had to finish what I had started. I had
no choice."
"Oh, yes you did! You had a choice." Hermione felt
another wave of tears and she let her head droop again and covered her
face with her hands before softly saying, "I thought you were dead! But
most of all, I thought you had loved me!"
Harry took a deep breath and slowly said. "I'm sorry.
And Hermione..." He lifted her chin up and looked into her brown eyes,
overflowing with tears. "I do love you" He cupped her cheeks in his hands
and slowly brought his mouth to hers in a sweet kiss. Electricity shot
through her body like in their seventh year.
Hermione felt herself smile and slowly laugh, trying
not to pull away. Harry smiled too. "What?" He asked.
"It's just...after four years...how much I still
love you." She whispered.
"I know." Harry said softly, before he kissed her
again quickly. Hermione wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug and
rested her head in his shoulder. Tears soaked his jacket, but they weren't
tears of pain and sadness, they were tears of pure joy.
