A/N: Okay so the chapter with holidays at the Grangers and the Weasleys was supposed to be one long chapter, but I've found it flows better if I split them up. So this chapter is solely their time at Hermione's. This is the LAST chapter without George, thank god. I've missed him.

NEXT chapter will be at the Burrow and things are really going to heat up. If things go as planned, it will be up tomorrow. If not, within the next few days.

Also if you like the idea of a series of one shots with Harriet and George after this story ends and have a scene/prompt you would like me to work on, hit me up on here or my tumblr!

Enjoy, and please don't forget to review!

Chapter Fourteen

Winter holidays had officially come and the trio found themselves at the Grangers for the first time in all their years of attending Hogwarts. Hermione had insisted on having them over so her parents could get to know her friends a bit better. But Ron, who was meeting them for the first time since gaining the official title as boyfriend, was extremely nervous and had begged Harry to accompany them should the event come up that he do something stupid and he needed her help("Please, Harry," he had pleaded with her when the conversation came up. "It's inevitable that I'm going to do something foolish, and when I do I need you to promise me that you do something even stupider to make up for it."). And Harry had agreed, since what are best friends for if not to embarrass yourself for their benefit?

And so that was how Harry found herself hauled up in Hermione's room with a sprained ankle after cartwheeling straight into a shelf of books to save Ron after he let out a series of swears after dropping his trunk on his foot.

Ron had roared with laughter.

Hermione had immediately regretted inviting them to her home.

"You know you can't do a cartwheel, Harry! What is wrong with you?" chided Hermione as she wrapped her friends ankle.

"That's precisely why I did it, Hermione."

"Honestly, you guys. I invited you over so that my parents could get to know my friends-"

"Boyfriend," Ron interrupted smuggly.

"-not so you two would destroy the house within the first twenty minutes of being here. Especially considering I wiped their memories of me to go off with you lot. This was important to me."

Ron and Harry exchanged a look. They hadn't realized the significance of this trip for her. Hermione had never invited them over before and perhaps Harry knew why now after the embarrassing display that had just happened. Mr. and Mrs. Granger didn't seem to mind (had even laughed) but Hermione did.

"Sorry Hermione."

"Yeah, love. We'll be on our best behavior from this point forward."

"We'll save our antics for the Burrow next week."

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek and Harry knew that she was trying not to laugh.

"I suppose that's a good compromise," she said standing. "Honestly Harry. You bang yourself up every year don't you? This year it's from learning to ride a bike and doing cartwheels right into things rather than battling Dark Lords and Death Eaters. I don't know if that makes it any better, though."

"You don't know how to ride a bike?" asked Ron whipping his head to look at her.

Harry shook her head.

"No, my aunt and uncle never taught me. George-," Harry paused for a moment finding it hard to say his name, "he was sort of teaching me and then well we kind of stopped those lessons for a while."

"Stopped? Were you that rubbish at it?"

"I mean I was fairly rubbish at it but we sort stopped because we got distracted by other things."

"What do you-oh...ohhhh! Gross!"

"Thanks, Ron."

"Why didn't you tell me you couldn't ride a bike, Harry? I could have taught you," said Ron and there was something in his tone that made Harry think perhaps Ginny was right. Ron was a tad bit jealous over sharing her.

Harry was about to tease him over such things when the sudden idea came to her.

"Hey, you know what? Maybe you still can. Hermione, do you have a bike?"

"My parents and I each have one. We tend to bike a lot during the summer. They're in the garage. Why though?"

"Come on," said Harry stumbling out of bed. "I have an idea."

"What are you on about, Harry?" asked Ron but he was grinning.

"I told you I was shite at this," said Harry from her place on the ground.

Hermione had gotten the bikes out and they had gone to a small park near her house. They had been attempting to teach Harry for over an hour now, but it seemed that she had forgotten everything that she had learned in her lessons with George. She had a hard time staying upright and then when she finally was able to manage that she had trouble stopping. This last time she had flown straight over the handlebars. Hermione and Ron were peering over her with matching concerned expressions.

"I thought you said George had been teaching you?" asked Ron leaning over his own handlebars.

"He was. This just doesn't come naturally to me. I swear it's like I'm worse than I was before though. I don't understand."

Hermione frowned at her as Harry stood up and attempted to get back on her bike.

"Maybe we should take a break, Harry."

"No. I have to get this. I have to."

"Harry-"

But Harry wasn't listening as she hopped back on her bike and barely peddled away from them before she felt the bike behind to tilt and she met the ground again.

"Shite."

"Harry, do you want to know what I think?" asked Hermione hopping off her bike and helping her friend up.

"No."

"I think," she continued ignoring the way Harry was scowling at her, "that you're so set on learning to do this because you think subconsciously that it will fix things with George."

"Don't be stupid, Hermione. That doesn't make any sense. What am I going to do? Ride up to his flat on my bike with a boombox and profess my love for him?"

"What's a boombox-"

"That's not what I mean, Harry. You think if you can learn to do this, it will make up for how you treated George in someway."

"John Hughes has no fucking clue-"

"Who is John Hughes-"

"An arse who has no concept of reality."

"Harry!"

Harry stopped her grumbling to look at Hermione who in turn looked quite cross with her.

"You're probably right, Hermione," said Harry sitting on the ground next to her bike and putting her head in her hands. "I just- I don't know what else to do. I miss him so much and I feel like this is the only connection I have to him right now."

Harry felt Ron and Hermione drop to the ground next to her and leaned her weight onto Ron who had rested a hand on her leg.

"You're too upset to learn how to do this properly right now," said Hermione grabbing Harry's hand and squeezing it. "What you need to do is talk to George. That's the only way any of this is going to get better for you."

"He probably doesn't want to hear from me ever again."

"I doubt that, mate. He was a mess when I saw him at his flat that week."

Harry sighed feeling cornered.

"Can we- can we just sit here a little while longer? I think I've made my ankle worse."

"Oh, Harry."

A week had passed and Harry had made no progress in her biking adventures. In fact, she seemed to be getting worse with each day and since today was the last day they were spending at the Grangers, Harry had resigned to the fact that she just wasn't meant to learn how to ride a bike. The progress that she had made when George was giving her lessons must have been sheer dumb luck.

She had also resigned to the fact that Hermione was right, as she normally was.

She needed to talk to George to make things right.

To tell him that she loved him and was an idiot.

And so Harry had asked Ron if she could borrow Pig to mail George a letter for she was afraid he had burned the parchment he had gifted her. The only problem was that she was having trouble finding the right words to put in the letter when Pig was flying around excitedly and crashing into Hermione's makeshift solar system that she had in her room.

"Hermione's such a nerd," said Harry affectionately before throwing a pen at Pig effectively missing the little owl. "Settle down you feathery git! Merlin, I need to get my own owl."

A knock at the door caused Harry to cease her scolding of the bird. Hermione was standing at the door dressed as though she were about to go out for the day.

"My parents had to work today so Ron and I are going to the movies. Do you want to join us?"

"Why don't you guys go have some alone time? I need to finish up this letter anyway," said Harry smiling.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Anyway, if you bring me it's likely that Ron and I will start some sort of commentary and you'll get cross with us again."

"I'm already concerned about what kind of experience this will be with how many questions he has about the theater," laughed Hermione. "How is the letter coming?"

"Not so great," muttered Harry. "I just don't know what to say."

"You'll figure it out, Harry," said Hermione sympathetically. "If you get bored after you post your letter, you can always walk into town. There are a few shops there."

"Alright."

"Just make sure you're back by seven. That's when we're heading to the Burrow."

Harry nodded and Hermione left. Harry turned back towards her letter. She really wasn't good at this type of thing. She had so much she wanted to tell him but she wanted to say it in person and so she settled for simply reaching out to him.

George,

I'm sorry for how things ended. I can't even begin to tell you my reasoning for all of it nor how awful I feel. I was hoping, perhaps, that you'd be up for meeting me during the holidays? I'm going to be spending Christmas at the Burrow and would very much like to see you.

I know you haven't been home since the war ended but please consider it.

Harry

She sent the letter off with Pig after having to nearly jinx him to get him to stay still long enough for her to tie it to his leg.

"Take this to him, yeah," she told the small owl. "Bite him if you have to until he opens it."

Harry watched out of Hermione's window until she could no longer see the little owl and then, deciding she didn't want to sit around and sulk any longer, decided to venture out.

The town was within walking distance from Hermione's house and though it was small it had a variety of shops for Harry to explore. She had managed to finish her Christmas shopping after finding Mr. Weasley a game of Monopoly that she was sure she was going to spend most of Christmas explaining and a nice set of baking pans for Mrs. Weasley.

She had been wandering about aimlessly trying not to think of George which she was failing miserably at. What if he didn't show? She wondered if perhaps it was wrong of her to ask him to return to the Burrow. Why would he come for her when he had such difficulty going home since the war had ended?

No matter how much she tried she couldn't shake the heartbroken feeling that had been following her around.

She was roused from her thoughts when she passed a hair salon where a woman was cutting the hair of a younger girl who was there with her mother. Without really knowing why, Harry entered the shop and then was completely unsure of what to do next.

"I can be with you in a moment if you're wanting to get a haircut," the salon lady told her with a smile. "Do you know what you'd like?"

Harry shook her head unable to find her voice.

"There are some magazines there if you'd like to look for something, but I'm sure we can come up with something that suits you."

Harry sat and grabbed the nearest magazine and began flipping through it. Her hair had been long as far back as she could remember. Before she came to Hogwarts, Petunia would make her wear it in a braid and Harry suspected all these years later it was because her mother's waves ran through her hair. It was so long now that the waves were weighed down, tangled within one another. She paused on a page that had caught her eye and ran a finger over the woman's hair, quizzically.

Perhaps it was time for a change.

"All done," said the hairdresser after the younger girl and her mother had left. "Find anything?"

Harry stood and took the picture over to the lady, still unable to find her voice.

"That," she said smiling, "is exactly what I had in mind. Come sit down."

Hair watched as the woman gathered her hair into a low ponytail and took a pair of scissors out of her apron.

"No turning back now, hun."