A/N: My muse and I have a rather strained relationship sometimes. The problem is that it's actually a three-way relationship with time, so it tends to be rather complicated ^^
I know that the song below actually refers to the singer's faith in god. I originally wanted to name this chapter 'Under my skin', another song by Trading Yesterday, but somehow I thought these lyrics were more fitting.
Thanks again to my loyal reviewers Chuffi4Harmony, pawsrule and Lauraxo13!
Part 4 – Shattered
Yesterday I died, tomorrow's bleeding
Fall into your sunlight
The future's open wide beyond believing
To know why hope dies
Losing what was found, a world so hollow
Suspended in a compromise
The silence of this sound is soon to follow
Somehow sundown
And finding answers
Is forgetting all of the questions we call home
Passing the graves of the unknown
As reason clouds my eyes with splendor fading
Illusions of the sunlight
And the reflection of a lie will keep me waiting
A love gone for so long
This day's ending
Is the proof of time killing all the faith I know
Knowing that faith is all I hold
And I've lost who I am
And I can't understand
Why my heart is so broken
Rejecting your love
Without love gone wrong
Lifeless words carry on
But I know, all I know
Is that the end's beginning
Who I am from the start
Take me home to my heart
Let me go and I will run
I will not be silenced
All this time spent in vain
Wasted years, wasted gain
All is lost, hope remains
And this war's not over
There's a light, there's the sun
Taking all the shattered ones
To the place we belong
And his love will conquer all
Yesterday I died
Tomorrow's bleeding
Fall into your sunlight
Shattered by Trading Yesterday
She leaves that afternoon to pick up some clothes. He wants to accompany her, but she declines.
"I promise I'll be back", she tells him.
He looks hesitant.
"When have I ever broken my promises", she asks him gently, coaxing him into letting her go.
He musters her quietly before slowly nodding. "I'll see you later then."
She smiles in reply and even though the smile doesn't reach her eyes, he feels confident that she'll be back. This is Hermione after all, she would never break such a promise. On the other hand, he had never thought that she would use glamours in front of him, and yet she did.
She is gone before he has the chance to add anything else, apparating to her home. He doesn't know where it is and he somehow has the feeling that she doesn't want him to know. What he doesn't know is why. Maybe because she wants to have a backdoor left to be able to leave without him knowing where she has gone.
He sighs. It's hard not to just outright confront her and demand answers. But they've struck a deal and he doesn't want to scare her away.
So he sits down on the sofa, willing himself to relax. Still, every few minutes he finds himself stopping, anxiously listening for any sound to signal that she is back.
Meanwhile she has arrived at her destination. There is really not much left for her to pick up, she hasn't bothered with anything but the essentials lately.
A quick spell later her things are packed and she's ready to leave again.
She looks around one last time and shudders slightly. It's somehow hard to imagine that she's spent the last few months living here.
Her hand glides across the dusty wall. It's ironic, really. For weeks she's wished she'd have another place to go and now that she does, she's reluctant to leave her refuge.
A sigh escapes her throat and the strap of her bottomless bag slips from her grip. There's a soft thud, followed by another, as she's allowed herself to sink down to the floor.
She's promised him that she'll be back and she is not going to break her promise, but right now she just needs a moment to herself.
Her glance passes over the dusty floor and walls once again. This is the place she's lived in for the last few months. And yet, this has never been her home. It is part of why she chose this place to begin with, really, she didn't want to feel happy there, it would have felt wrong.
That and she doesn't really have much money either, having spent most of her savings during her stay in Australia. She knows that she could get a job nearly everywhere, she has received enough offers straight after the war. But she wants a job where she is appreciated for her skills, and not just for her status as a war heroine. Then again, finding a job hasn't been one of her priorities as of late. But, she muses, she hasn't had any priorities lately, not really.
Her glance falls on the item in her left hand. It's the only thing that she hasn't carelessly summoned into her bag. Her thumb softly caresses its worn cover. It's the only thing that has provided her some sort of comfort within these walls. Maybe it's due to the fact that it's a book, and she's always cherished knowledge. Maybe she values it so much because it's been her favourite book for a while now. Or maybe it's simply because it reminds her of her teenage years, better times.
In the end it's probably a combination of all these factors.
Her thoughts drift to the place's previous inhabitant. She remembers him telling her once that he liked living here better than living at Grimmauld Place. She had thought him crazy then, but now, she thinks she can emphasise. At least, at this place he had his freedom. At least at this place he was free to do what he wanted to. Grimmauld Place never gave him that chance. She fears it might be the same for her.
She knows that Harry isn't going to outright confine her to his place, but he'll be watching out for her, and rather closely at that. She sighs. It feels good to know that someone cares for her this much, but she also fears what it might entail. She doesn't want to drag Harry down with her, not when he has obviously done such a great job at getting his life back on the right track. As opposed to her. She smiles bitterly.
A last sigh, a final glance around and she leaves without looking back.
Harry looks up startled at the sound of apparition. She nods at him before moving upstairs to put her stuff away.
At least that was the original plan. When she arrives there, she puts the bag down beside the bed and lies down. She's not ready to unpack just yet. It would give this an air of finality, as if she's properly moved in.
Downstairs, Harry lets out a breath of relief.
They don't really interact much during the rest of the day. Dinner passes quietly, neither of them saying very much.
She leaves for bed shortly afterwards, and Harry is once again left alone in the kitchen, contemplating things.
Tomorrow is Friday. He is supposed to go over to the Weasleys' for dinner, but he is pretty sure that he won't be able to convince her to come and he is not ready to leave her alone just yet.
So, time to make up a convenient excuse. He sighs. He doesn't want to lie to the Weasleys, but he can't very well tell them that Hermione is the reason he won't be coming. Even if he hadn't promised her not to tell them, he wouldn't have thought it wise anyway. He loves them all to bits, but they can be a bit too interfering sometimes and if they knew she was here, he knows that they wouldn't leave her alone.
He sends an owl to Ron some time later, having made up some excuse about being tied down with work and asking him to give his best to the family for him.
Ron's reply is even shorter than his excuse. "Sure mate, see you next week." He has to smile at the reply; it's just so typical for his red-head best friend.
She decides to sleep in the next morning, something she has rarely done in the past. In fact, she can't remember doing so since their sixth year.
The smell of freshly brewed tea greets her as she enters the kitchen. Kreacher has made sure to be up before her today and he has already prepared breakfast.
She is not really surprised to see Harry sitting at the kitchen table, obviously having taken off another day from work. She is about to tell him that she doesn't want him missing his work for her, when he looks up.
"Good morning", he smiles at her. "Tea?"
"Morning, Harry. Sure, tea sounds great." She takes the proffered cup from him, and politely thanks Kreacher for the breakfast he puts in front of her. Kreacher just nods at her, a somewhat smug smile on his face, before he pops out, leaving them to their breakfast.
"Listen, Harry", she starts, but he once again interrupts her.
"Don't worry, I'm not taking any more days off. I'll be working today."
She looks at him, surprised. "How do you know that is what I wanted to ask you about?"
"Because I know you", he replies simply. A warm feeling starts spreading in her stomach at his answer, one she is not sure where it is coming from.
"But don't you have to leave soon, then", she asks him.
"Nope."
"And that's because…?"
"I am working from home today."
"And you can just do that whenever you want to?"
"No."
"Are you trying to be difficult on purpose?"
"Yes."
"Harry", she admonishes him, but there's a smile on her face now, the first real smile since she has arrived here, her first real smile in ages.
Harry is close to doing a victory dance around the table as he catches her smile, but he is pretty sure that would scare her away, so he settles on simply smiling in reply.
"The reason why I am allowed to work from home is because I offered to do some of the paperwork that has accumulated over the past few months.
He points to three rather large stacks sitting on the counter.
"Who in their right mind would volunteer to do that", she asks, as she flips through the papers.
"No one", he answers cheerfully. "Ergo, why I am allowed to do this from home."
She shakes her head at him, still smiling. She can't help but feel a bit guilty that he has taken on that work for her, but is touched all the same.
They sit in silence for a while, Hermione taking little bites from her breakfast, while Harry absentmindedly looks at her, deep in thoughts, occasionally taking a sip from the cup in his hand.
She breaks his trance when she gets up to put her plate away. He stretches himself and yawns, before he gets up from his chair. "Time to tackle the paperwork", he sighs.
"So what's your plan for today", he asks her, as he shuffles through the papers unenthusiastically.
"I don't really know", she says, hesitatingly.
He tries to keep his face passive, while he once again wonders what has happened to the girl he once knew, who used to love nothing better than meticulously work out her time tables, planning every minute ahead. Being a planner is part of what has always defined Hermione, or at least the Hermione he used to know. But maybe he'll have to start re-evaluating what he had considered a fact about her.
"I think I'm going to head up to the library", she interrupts his train of thoughts.
He nods, glad that at least she's found something to do. She turns back when she's already half up the stairs.
"Do you want to join me?", she asks, somewhat shyly. "I think it'd be far more practical to work up there than in the kitchen."
"Sure", he says, "I'll follow you up in a moment." She nods, before turning back, heading up the staircase.
A large smile breaks out over his face. He knows it's not much, but it's something, and for now, he's content with what he has gotten.
He joins her in the library a few minutes later. She's already curled up on the sofa, a large volume spread on her lap. Her forehead is wrinkled, as she muses about some theory or other she has just read about. At the same time, her left hand absentmindedly twists a strand of her hair that has slipped out of her braid.
He closes the door behind him quietly, not wanting to disturb her peace. If she notices that he has entered, she doesn't show it.
He settles on a nearby table, spreading out the papers in front of him. With a soft groan, he starts on the first form, and he is soon deeply immersed in his work.
They don't talk about much for the rest of the day. Dinner is a quiet affair, and yet he has the feeling that they've taken one step forward.
That night he wakes up to the sound of her screaming. He rushes over to her room, afraid that something has happened, his wand at the ready. When he bursts into her room, he stops and stares at her, paralysed. He has had his fair share of nightmares, but never quite like this.
Hermione is lying in her bed, her whole fragile form trembling, fighting off some invisible enemy. Her eyes are firmly shut, and yet her head wildly turns in every direction, as if trying to make out some foe. She is muttering as well, but he is unable to understand any of it.
With a few quick strides, he is over by her side. Unsure of what to do, he tries to wake her, by shaking her shoulder, but that is obviously the wrong thing to do.
Her head stops turning, as she seems to have identified him as the invisible foe she is trying to fight off. Too late he realises that she has her wand in her hand. Only his quick reflexes allow him to avoid the spell that is shooting out of her wand not a second later, and he mentally curses himself for his own stupidity.
"Hermione, wake up, it's me, Harry", he shouts at her, but she does not seem to hear her. But before she can shoot off her next spell, he grasps her hands, turning the aim away from him. He hears the mirror shatter that is standing next to the bed, but he does not allow himself to turn.
He feels horrible for having to hurt her, but he is afraid of what will happen if he loosens his grip. Instead he holds on even more tightly and manages to wrestle her wand out of her hand. Hermione is far from defenceless, however, as she brings up her knees, effectively hitting him in the groin. With a groan, he collapses on top of her. Nevertheless, he holds on to her hands tightly, not releasing her.
She keeps on struggling beneath him, and he's afraid that he's crushing her, but there's nothing he can really do. Fortunately, auror training has done its job and he's able to hold her down. Unfortunately, she doesn't wake up, even if he keeps on telling her that it's him, Harry, that she doesn't have to be afraid.
It feels like ages, even though it can't have been more than ten minutes, when she finally starts to fight him less and less. Instead, sobs start to wrack her body. Her eyes open slightly, and a flicker of recognition passes over her face. A soft, but questioning "Harry" leaves her lips, in between two sobs.
Relieved, but still deeply concerned he moves off her, and lies down by her side instead, after having made sure that both of their wands are well out of their reach. He puts his arms around, trying to calm her down. "Shhh", he tries to soothe her. "Shh, it's ok, I'm here."
"I'm sorry", she murmurs as she melts into his embrace. "I'm so sorry."
"It's ok", he keeps on telling her. "It's ok. You're fine. We're both fine."
Eventually her sobs die down, as she drifts off to sleep, but not before she has apologised over and over again.
Meanwhile, Harry lies next to her still body, unable to fall asleep for a long time. His arms are still circled around her thin body, as he tries to work out what has just happened.
Hermione has changed, of that much he is sure. It is like a part of her has been shattered to pieces, but he is determined that he will puzzle the pieces back together.