Chapter Seven
For Keeps
Hermione's side was cold. There was a small draft from the open window. She turned, and saw that Harry wasn't there. She couldn't be sure what time it was. She woke up every ten minutes, and he was there.
She groaned, and got dressed in jeans, and a shirt, and then went down to the kitchen. Bent over the cooker was her friend.
"You're still here," she said surprised.
Harry glimpsed over his shoulder at her, and nodded, flipping the pancake. "I'm taking off work for the day." He then changed the subject before she could argue, "are you hungry?"
"Famished," she admitted.
"Tuck in, then."
Hermione sat at the counter while he sat a plate full of fluffy pancakes in front of her, and a bottle of syrup. She took the fork, and knife, and started cutting. He sat across from her, and she got a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach. Is this the way it used to be? Did they sit here eating breakfast, talking, Harry with the Dailey Prophet that he had just picked up? It seemed so normal that she suspected it to be true. If it was then it wasn't so bad. She could deal with this. She could handle a life with him if it was as simple, and easy as that. At least they weren't in the tent with limited meals. In a second stabbing thought at least Ron had been with them.
Harry folded the paper along the creases setting it down next to his plate. "You must be getting bored around here, why don't you go out to see Luna? She's good with this kind of thing."
"What kind of thing?"
Suddenly he straightened, half shrugging his shoulders. He was being defensive.
"What kind of thing," she repeated.
"This, she's good at understanding people's feelings. She helped me when Sirius died..."
Hermione shook her head. "I don't want to see Luna. I don't want to see anyone. Why don't you go into work, Harry? I'll be fine here by myself. I want to be by myself, and you shouldn't be missing work."
Harry stood, and dumped his dishes in the sink. "I'm just trying to help, Hermione."
She sighed, "I'm sorry... I just..."
"Admit it, you don't want your memory back."
"This again?"
He spun slamming his hands on the table, his head bowed. "admit it."
"Yes, and no... I don't want my last memory to be of them dying, but I don't want our memories either. How can I be happy?"
"Because we made it so."
"How?"
He strolled around the table cupping her face in his hands. He looked intently down at her inspecting the honey streaks in her eyes. "You don't have to question, and study everything. Let things be." He lowered his lips, and very softly brushed them against hers. She almost didn't feel it, but when then he was applying more pressure. She didn't move. It was so good it stuck her feet to the floor, it froze her, a warm feeling curling itself in her belly. She shouldn't love it so much. This was Harry of all people.
"You'll remember," he mumbled. "I promise you."
"What if I don't?"
"Don't say that -"
"Please, Harry..."
He shut his eyes as if in pain. "If I can't make you love me again... You won't let me keep you, will you?"
She couldn't stand the thought of causing him anymore pain. She couldn't remember being with him, but she knew it must have been real. He didn't deserve to feel these things. He didn't need any more sorrow. "I'll remember."
"Then come with me." He didn't want for an answer. He disapparated them.
Hermione felt herself being forced into a tunnel. She breathed when she felt her feet hit the ground. This time it was soft, and there was a cool breeze. There was a roaring in her ears, and when she opened her eyes she saw black. She had buried her head in Harry's chest. She backed away nervously, and looked around properly.
The scene stole her breath. They stood on a grassy bank next to a small waterfall that was pouring into a crystal clear river, the pebbles gleaming at the bottom. "Where are we," she asked astounded.
"Near the Burrow. I found it while flying outside boundaries." He saw the scolding look on her face, and added, "I wasn't caught, Hermione, I stayed above the clouds - Oh, honestly, we've broken more serious rules than that!"
"Are you saying I went along with it?" She was disbelieving, a hand on her hip, her brow raised said this clearly.
He smirked playfully. "Took some persuading, but I got you out here. This is where we fell in love."
Hermione smiled dropping her hand from her hip. "I bet anyone could fall in love here."
"I packed us a lunch, our bathing suits, and we made a day of it. You became interested in this rock you found at the bottom of the river. The color was Gryffindor's. You were so excited, and beautiful that I knew I loved you. You said you loved me for a long time. Sometime when you spent all those nights outside of my door after the war."
She kicked off her trainers, and sat on the ground, dipping her feet into the river, the current slow enough. She wriggled her toes, running them over the smooth pebbles stirring up the mud. Harry copied her actions, and sat next to her.
"You never did tell me... How did Voldemort die?"
He flicked a stone with his toe. "He tried to kill me with my own wand, and it rebounded."
"Did you know it would?"
"I had a good idea. I expected it. Tried to tell him not to - to give up, and find remorse. He didn't."
"A hero through, and through," Hermione winked at him. "I'm glad you won."
"We. I wasn't the only one in that war."
Hermione nodded. Fifty people, it still boggled her mind. She thought of what he said earlier. He had been through so much, lost so many friends, and family, it wasn't fair for him to lose his wife. Harry was strong, but how much could he take until he broke? "If I don't remember... You can keep me."
He exhaled loudly. "With, or without your memory, I love you. But I won't keep you when you can be happy elsewhere. It would be selfish of me."
"For once be selfish. I'll try to be your wife."
"Newsflash Hermione, you are."
"You know what I mean..." She checked her watch's face. It was like Dumbledore's with around twenty stars ticking their way across Roman numerals. "When did you call into work?"
"I called in yesterday."
"You planned this?"
"Not really... I didn't plan on coming here, or else I would have packed a lunch." He gave her a smile, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
She leaned into him resting her head. It wasn't so bad. She could get used to this life. But like a curse she thought of her parents, Ron, and Ginny. Fred. She was smiling, and they were dead. What was wrong with her?
"Take me home, Harry."
"What's wrong?"
She pushed back, and stood, shoving her trainers back on. "Take me home, please," she insisted.
"Not until you tell me what's wrong."
"They're dead!"
He nodded in understanding. "It's okay to be happy, Hermione. They wouldn't have it any other way." When she didn't respond he grabbed her arms whirling her around to face him. "What're you going to do? Are you going to mourn the rest of your life? If you do you won't be doing their sacrifice any justice, they'll have died without purpose."
Her hands lashed out. She pushed him, and he stumbled back shocked. "I feel guilty enough! You don't need to tell me about their sacrifice. It's my last memory, and it's forever burned into my eyes!"
"I'm sor -"
"Take me home."
Cautiously he took the last steps towards her to break their distance. He gave her one last fleeting look before he held her, apparating them back to their house. Home.
