Now you can say what dreams are
Wake me in time to be out in the cold
And who can say what we are
This is the reason for dreaming
And now our bodies are the guilty ones
Our touch will fill every eye
Huge and dark
All our hearts will murmur the blues from on high
And whisper some silver reply
- The Guilty Ones, Spring Awakening
He opens the closet, sifting through linens and towels until he gets to the bottom shelf; he moves the piles until he reaches the farthest corner where there is a faded purple blanket. He holds it to his chest, faintly smelling the flowery perfume she used to wear. He now walks to the living room. He finds two copies of quidditch through the ages and picks up the one with the ripped spine. He taps his wand on it once and the book reveals another cover, Hogwarts: A History. He opens the front cover to see her signature. He taps five or six other double copies on his shelves, each revealing the same signature on the inside covers. He goes to his bedroom and picks up the photograph of his family taken the year they went to Egypt. He removes it from the frame and grabs the picture hidden behind it, one of him and his two best friends after his second year at Hogwarts. He goes to his closet and rummages through his coats. He finds the worn winter coat he's not worn for four years and rummages in its pockets. He finds a small box and taps his wand to it, making it the size of a shoebox. He opens it up to find many pictures. He sees a couple of her with her parents, and several others through their years at Hogwarts. He sees Dumbledore's Army fifth year, them with Hagrid, them at their first Christmas at Hogwarts. He sees them at his oldest brother's wedding, them right after the battle of Hogwarts, all three of them being rewarded Order of Merlin's, and finally, one at her last birthday. He found this one at the bottom of the box. In the picture she's blowing out her candles. He sees himself lean over and kiss her on the cheek, to which she laughs and kisses him full on the mouth. He decides not to give this one back with the other pictures, and puts it safely at the bottom of the box once more. Lastly he goes to the remaining closet in his flat, where he stores old quidditch things. He digs through all the Chudley Cannons memorabilia until he finds one of the last things he kept from his days at Hogwarts, his Gryffindor quidditch uniform. He takes out the jersey, arm and leg padding, and finds the hat he always wore. He remembers that his best friend used to say the hat was useless, and she would always tell him the hat didn't look that bad. He takes out the hat and opens it carefully. A small, worn, beaded bag falls out of it and onto the floor. He remembers this bag well. He opens it, but finds it empty. He carries it to the living room where the other things sit and slowly puts them all into the small bag; there they are ready to be returned to their rightful owner. He sits down on the couch and sighs. He had hidden all those things as to forget about her, yet over the years he found himself in the linen closet when no linens were to be changed, looking at books on the bookshelves when he didn't want to read, brushing against the pocket of his old winter coat, and taking out his old quidditch things much too often. Even after all this time, Hermione surrounded him.
He could never blame her for doing what she did. Even before, he remembered her mentioning the only way to secure a spot in the Magical Creatures department was to travel abroad learning about the regions of magical creatures. He only blamed her for running away from her problems. She never wanted to face the loss of the baby, so she ran. She ran for four years, and left him to face their loss on his own. And without her he couldn't face it, so he ran as well. He didn't run to Indonesia, China, Uganda, or Iran. Instead he ran to fame, alcohol, and one-night stands. He had already stopped running, and hoped that she had too.
Suddenly he heard the fireplace flicker. "You're working in half an hour, aren't you?" It was George. He remembered that before he could meet with Hermione tonight, he had to work because it was Friday. (He worked at the ministry Monday, Tuesday and Thursday, and helped at the joke shop Wednesday, Friday, and the occasional Saturday.)
"Yeah, sorry, I'll get dressed and be right over." He said, and then saw George's face disappear from the fire. He looked at the clock, 8:30. He showered and dressed, praying that the day would go quick and five o'clock would come soon.
The lights of the small café were dim on a small street in muggle London. Hermione sat quietly, hoping that Harry would find the place all right. She had owled him the instructions earlier that day. Finally she saw him walk in and waved him over. "Hello, Stranger!" he said, greeting her with a hug.
"Hello yourself!" She said looking him up and down. He looked better than ever. "I ordered tea for us, I hope that's alright." She said sitting down.
"Perfect." He said smiling. "Wow, I haven't been to this part of muggle London in a while… actually I don't even go into muggle London that much anymore."
"I told you I could meet you at the Leaky Cauldron or something… we didn't have to come all the way here." Hermione said, feeling bad.
"Oh no, it's best if we do. The press is still dying for photos, even after years! I didn't want some bogus story about you coming back into the country and me falling in love with you, just because we were spotted having tea!" He said laughing.
"I did forget what that used to be like. I bet they had a field day when I left." Hermione said unsurely.
"As I remember they did for quite a while, so much so Kingsley asked for privacy for you and Ron's future careers or something, I keep forgetting you didn't get the Daily Prophet while you were away." He said as the waiter brought their tea.
"I'll admit while I missed reading the paper, I didn't miss being in it. They really hounded Ron and I, almost more than you and Ginny." She said picking up her tea.
"They still hounded him when you left. They've backed off recently. Ron had some hard times while you're away, but he's got his act together now. Anyways, that's not my story to tell. Have you, uh, seen Ron yet?" He asked, failing to act casual.
"Not yet, no. I suppose we'll meet up soon, though." She said, also failing to act casual as she remembered Ron's letter earlier in the week.
"I really want to have you over to our house soon, I think you'd like it." He awkwardly changed the subject.
"I had forgotten you bought a house! I'd love to see it sometime if you and Ginny will have me." She was relieved that the subject had changed.
"Of course we will, I can't see why not." He said, turning lighthearted.
"Harry, they all probably think I'm some horrible girl who used Ron and then ran away and broke his heart—" she paused "—which in a sense, I mean, I was, but it wasn't like that." Hermione had failed to have the same lighthearted tone Harry had taken.
"I don't think they blame you. I just think they wish things would have turned out differently."
"I wish they would have too." Hermione's eyes filled with tears, but she was determined to hide them. "I wish I could make it up to you."
"It's not me you have to make anything up to." He said in a reassuring way.
"I know that. Thank you." Hermione looked at the clock. It was getting close to four. She only had an hour until Ron came to her flat. "I'd better be going soon, I'm expecting company." She saw harry stand up and get his things, so she did as well.
"Oh okay yeah, Ginny should be expecting me soon as well. What kind of company?" Hermione froze.
"Just one of my friends I travelled with." She tried to sound casual.
"You're not… seeing somebody are you?" Harry asked unsurely as they walked out of the shop. Hermione realized that she had made it sound like more than a friend.
"No, no! I've been single for a while. Dating isn't my thing right now." She was being honest. She hadn't dated anyone for the past sixth months, and no one she had dated had lasted since Ron. Harry hugged her as they said goodbye.
"Owl me sometime will you? It's like you're my best friend until I defeat the dark lord then you drop off the face of the earth for five years. A bit insulting I'd say." Harry said. They were both laughing going down the street to the nearest alleyway.
When they were sure they weren't going to be seen, they both prepared to apparate back to their homes. "I'll see you soon, then?" he looked at her hopefully.
"You bet. And Harry, I'm glad you're happy." She gave him one last smile before she apparated back to her flat. A quarter after four. She looked at the clock with butterflies already bouncing in her stomach.
At ten after five, Hermione was about to start unpacking books by herself when she heard her fireplace flare up with green flames. By the time she got to her living room where the fireplace was, Ron was standing outside her fireplace having just brushed the extra floo powder off his clothes. He was holding a large paper bag with various foods sticking out.
"Well hello, then. I thought you'd have given me the wrong flat or something." He said with a goofy grin.
"Oh—no! I was just in the back room unloading books. You're perfectly all right." She said trying not to sound too rehearsed.
"So I brought chicken and stuff to make a cream sauce with it and then I'm making mashed potatoes, if that's alright with you?" he said putting the bag down on the counter and sifting through it.
"That sounds wonderful. I haven't used my kitchen a bit other than to make tea, you'll be the first!" She was sounding a bit too cheery trying to clear the air.
"Oh that's what I forgot I was going to bring tea! I didn't know if you had any!" Ron looked very disappointed with himself.
"I may have been gone for years, but I'm still British. Ron, honestly!" Hermione teased.
For a moment, Ron thought Hermione sounded like she had during their school years. Like he had asked her to outline yet another essay for him, or he had made a comment about her going to the library too often. He snapped out of his momentary gaze and said, "Well, should I start cooking? It takes a while to bake."
"Sure, the kitchen is yours." She said moving out of his way.
He turned to her. "Oh, I have something for you, maybe it'll keep you busy." He pulled out the small beaded bag. Hermione gasped.
"You had this? All these years?" she looked at him amazed.
"Well there wasn't a real good time to give it back until now. I put the rest of your stuff in there. I took it all with me when I moved from Mum and Dad's." He turned around and continued unloading the groceries. Hermione moved to the small table in her kitchen and set the bag on it. She slowly began to pull out things as Ron talked. "So I've been thinking that we have a lot of catching up to do, but I really don't know where to start."
"I agree completely. I've missed so much of everything here. Your family, Harry, and you all have lives and I haven't got a clue what's happening in them… oh I forgot about this blanket!" She said getting distracted as she reached into the bag. "But it's not as if they'd like me to know about their lives. It's none of my business." She continued as she got up and set the blanket on the couch in the adjacent living room.
"Honestly, I don't know much more than you do. You shouldn't feel bad." Ron muttered from the kitchen. Hermione could hear the chicken searing on the stove.
"Ron, they're your family. What do you mean?" Hermione walked back into the kitchen.
"It's just that I haven't been real close to them since you left. I haven't seen Charlie since the wedding, I saw Bill last Christmas, I see Percy occasionally at the ministry, and I only see Harry or Ginny once a week."
"But you work with George?" Hermione said, pulling out a stack of books from the bag.
"Yeah I see him the most. He doesn't really bother me about my private life. Mum worried about me so much I think I really upset her, and now I don't see her or dad at all unless someone has a birthday or holiday anymore."
"Is there a reason you don't talk to them much?" she asked without thinking. "Oh I'm sorry is that too personal?"
"No, not at all. I guess I just had a tough time after you left. They all tried to help me and I didn't want the help, so I cut them out of my life and it hasn't been the same since." He turned back as he cast a spell to peel the potatoes.
"I'm sorry. I did that." She had stopped looking through the bag and turned to look at him.
"Hermione, no. You didn't do any of that."
"Are you kidding? Ron I left you with barely any notice or warning, I was a completely selfish. And then I came back at the wedding expecting you to be waiting for me, like an idiot! I've been nothing but awful to you." Even though she tried to take a somewhat reasonable tone with her voice, it was still clouded with disbelief and regret.
"You're barking mad. You didn't do any of that!" He said honestly.
"Ron…" Hermione said in disbelief.
"Okay maybe you did some of that, but I can't blame you. I was just as horrible to you." Ron said.
"You were not! I don't even know why you even agreed to come tonight—" she was cut off.
"Because you've been my best friend for over ten years. That's why." He said quickly. He once again turned back to the casserole dish that was about to go into the oven. "So we've got an hour until this is ready, should we organize some books?" he changed the subject.
"Sure, it's just in here…" She led him into the room she called the back room. She didn't want to call it a library because it didn't have enough books for that, but it wasn't really an office either. She told this to Ron as they started to sort through mountains of books. As they organized books Ron asked Hermione about her travels, and she filled him in about all of her adventures the last couple years. The conversation of travelling continued through dinner, as Ron told stories of his travels with quidditch. After dinner Hermione made tea and they discussed their current situations and what they wanted to do in the future. Both of them enjoyed each other's company. It was like a mutual acceptance of the past, and they felt themselves moving forward. Soon Hermione was picking up the purple bag and pulling the remainder of its contents out, which were just the pictures. "You know I wondered where some of these went when I left. Oh, I remember this one! The summer after the war." She had picked up one of the photos. It had been taken at one of many commemorations about the "heroes of the wizarding war" that had happened soon after the battle. She saw many of the members of Dumbledore's Army in it. She noticed she was holding Ron's hand in the picture and was sure he'd noticed it too. She was silent for a few moments, looking through all the pictures that she had left behind.
"Do you ever think about it?" Ron said quietly.
"Think about what?" She said without looking up from the stack of pictures.
"You know, the baby." He said even quieter than before.
Hermione's head shot up fast. Her voice was strained and quick. "Thank you for bringing me this stuff, but it's getting late I think you should—" but Ron didn't let her finish. He knew her all too well.
"You can't just ignore it! Have you really still not coped with it?" Ron was furious. "I convinced myself that you left because you needed to deal with it, but all this time you were just running…" he got his things together and headed for the fireplace when he heard her voice.
"Until recently it was easy to forget. But now, every time I see you I'm reminded of by just looking at you." She was now turning softer. She swallowed hard. "…But when I was travelling I distracted myself. I didn't try to cope with it. But I… I want to try now. Can't you understand that?" She sounded weak, tired, and scared. Ron, who had looked genuinely kind all night, now instead looked drained. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." She repeated as she tried to look anywhere but Ron, her eyes clouded with tears.
The air between them, once friendly, turned uneasy. Ron, who looked angered, was fighting a battle within himself. Finally, without words, Ron hugged her tightly before getting into the fireplace. "It was a lovely evening." He said solemnly before the fireplace went up in flames.
Hermione sat down on the couch, her mind blank. She absentmindedly picked up the blanket she had set there earlier and lay down. She didn't know when the tears would stop flowing, but she hoped that when they did, she might be able to overcome the events of her past she had been avoiding.
She was ready to stop running.
A/N: Chapter four came a lot sooner than expected! I leave in three hours for europe and I couldn't leave without leaving you all something! I hope you enjoy! X
