A/N: Yes, I did mean the switch from present to past tense. The previous two chapters weren't meant to have a sense. of time...they're a prologue of sorts...so yeah. Read and enjoy!
Hermione stood at the sink, washing dishes in the morning light. It would have been simpler to do them by magic, but this felt better. Calmer, somehow. As if by returning to her muggle roots could erase her wizarding world problems. As if they could solve—
"Morning, 'Mione," a voice said behind her, interrupting her thoughts. Arms snaked around her waist, and a kiss was laid at the base of her neck. Just Ron. She twisted in Ron's arms and kissed him back, then flicked a soap bubble at him as they broke apart. He shook his head at her and kissed her again, then pinched her bum and began drying. She yelped and flipped some water at him as he picked up the dishtowel.
"I don't see why you insist on doing things the Muggle way," Ron muttered as he worked, but with no real complaint. Hermione did not deign to answer him, shaking her head. She passed him the last bowl and then flicked her wand, setting a frying pan on the stove. A mixing bowl zoomed towards it, and the ingredients for pancakes began to mix themselves together within it.
"You're getting good at those household spells," Ron commented, plopping himself down in a chair and grabbing the Daily Prophet. His face darkened as he scanned the first page.
"What is it?" Hermione asked, coming to sit by him. She waved her wand to flip the pancakes. "Ron?"
"Another article about Harry's absence," Ron muttered angrily. "By that crazy bat, Romilda Vane," he added.
"Didn't she try to give Harry a love potion in our sixth year?" Hermione wondered, mostly to herself. "And didn't you eat them and then get poisoned?" she added.
Ron flushed red. "Yes," he said. "Which is why I hate her."
"It was seven years ago, Ron," Hermione comforted, smiling. "However, she can be a bit of a...well, you know. But back to Harry. How long has it been, now?" she summoned the pancakes, which appeared, golden and hot, on the plate she had set out for that purpose.
"Six years," Ron said around a pancake. "Exactly. That's why she has a front page article, that bat." He passed the newspaper to his wife.
"Ouch," Hermione murmured as she took in the flashing headline: "Wizarding Hero Harry Potter Still Absent." She scanned the article, catching phrases like "selfish of him to go," and "tramautized by his youth." Shaking her head in disgust, the brunette said, "I do feel bad for Ginny though, having to deal with the press and missing Harry."
"She shouldn't have been dating in the first place. She's far too young," Ron replied, as he wolfed down the rest of his pancakes and checked his watch. "Whoops - gotta go - Auror business, you know - especially with our Head being on vacation in France - you know how I'm his assistant..."
"It's fine, dear," Hermione said, kissing her husband on the cheek. "Have a good day!"
"See you this evening, honey!" Ron called as he took down the anti-Apparation wards and Apparated out.
As Hermione cleaned up the dishes - this time with magic - a flash of something brown outside the window caught her eye. As she turned to see what it was, a crack resounded through the house. With a sinking feeling in her gut, Hermione realized she had forgotten to out the anti-Apparation wards back up.
Grabbing her wand, the witch slowly turned around and put the wards back up, her breathing heavy. As she edged out the back door - she was sure the crack had come from there - Hermione saw something that would have shocked her more than Voldemort come back to life.
"Harry?!"
The man was lying on the grass, covered in blood. He clutched his arm - the limb spurting blood - and coughed raggedly.
"Splinched—myself," he ground out. "Haven't—apparated—for—a while."
"What are you missing?"
"Hand - ouch - damnit!"
Hermione quickly summoned his hand and carefully reattached it, minding all the tiny bones and sinews as she did so. Running inside, she grabbed her emergency bottle of Essence of Dittany, and applied some of the brown liquid as a salve to his wound. "Better?" she asked.
"Much," Harry replied and Hermione was suddenly reminded of their time together hunting Horcruxes. Ah, the good old days when they knew what was right and what was was wrong.
"C'mon, Harry, up you get," Hermione said briskly, trying to forget that dark time without Ron that her train of thought had led her to. With Harry leaning on her, she murmured, "Scourgify," pointing her wand at his blood-cover clothes. "You can use my shower," Hermione continued, helping him up the stairs and into the bathroom. "Um...do you need my help with..."
"No, no, I'll be fine," Harry stopped her. "Thanks...I'll be out in fifteen minutes and explain everything, 'kay?"
Hermione nodded and backed out of the bathroom, her mind awhirl as she set out some of Ron's clothes for Harry. Part of her was ecstatic that Harry was back, but then she didn't know how Ginny would react, and then Ron would either get mad, or follow Harry around like a lost puppy. And should she tell Ginny, or should she wait and let Harry explain? And if Ron got mad—more like jealous, anyway, jealous of their close relationship—what would it do to their already fragile marriage? Would it break, or just bend? What should she do?
All of these questions, all without answers, cause the brunette to be cast nearly immobile until Harry returned. "'Mione?" he asked. "'Hermione, are you okay?"
"Yeah—yeah, I'm fine. Um, could you explain now?"
Harry sat down on the bed after pulling on one of Ron's Chudley Cannons t-shirts and jeans, while Hermione averted her eyes. Again, she was reminded of the hunt for Horcruxes, when it was just her, Harry, and Ron. Before any of them were in this mess, this balancing act where a slip meant that they went tumbling into the hell that awaited each and every one of them.
"So...I left. I left Ron there, I left you there...I left Ginny there." Harry's voice became tight and constricted, and Hermione's heart went out to him. But she had to stay strong. She couldn't forgive him...not yet, anyway. "I Apparated...somewhere, a forest, I don't know...I snapped my wand...and Draco's...I walked for hours until I got to a city...there was a branch of Gringott's there, I transferred my money into muggle money...I went to an airport and boarded the first plane I saw...to somewhere in America, I don't know...and then...I'm not proud of what I did..." Harry's eyes were full of tears, but Hermione wouldn't let him stop. He hurt Ginny, she told herself, trying not to pity him. He needs to suffer. But she knew in her heart that she didn't mean it.
Harry continued. "I...I got drunk...I went to a club and...I...I...it's a little bit fuzzy but I...I slept around and...had sex...with...a lot of them. I would fly...all over the world...and...that's how I spent...the six years..."
Hermione's eyes were dark with anger. Ginny's worst fears...confessed to Hermione in her darkest moments...had come true. Harry had slept around. Harry had met other women. "And did you ever even think about what you did to Ginny? Did you realize that your actions have consequences? Or did you think you could come back and be forgiven, like the selfish absolute asshole you are?" she growled.
Harry was taken aback. He had thought about Ginny...just not as much as he should have.
"I thought not." Hermione's voice was cruel. "Harry James Potter. I don't care why you're back, I don't care that you're back...you fucking hurt my best friend...my sister for Merlin's sake...and you are going to pay."
Harry glanced around, afraid that Hermione was going in physically injure him that very moment. "Um...Hermione?"
She glared at him. "Any attempts you make at my sister will be thwarted, unless she tells me not to. I forbidyou from hurting her. If I had my way, she wouldn't see you ever again. You fucking broke her heart,and to this day she hasn't healed. You've been warned, Potter."
