Hermione was up at five-thirty in the morning, only catching a few hours of sleep after her return from Durmstrang. She had tried to get back to sleep, even casting a Warming Charm on her blanket in an attempt to lull herself to sleep, but to no avail. She eventually rose, declaring defeat, and brewed a particularly strong cup of tea, even for her.
She was on high alert all morning, as she had received no reply from Demetri and had neglected to name a time in her own letter inviting him over. It would be the first time she had seen him since their decidedly frosty parting the prior weekend, and she felt keyed up, not sure if she would be arguing with him—again. But mostly she felt anxious in an excited sort of way that she wasn't accustomed to.
Knock. Still exhausted—and not quite expecting Demetri to arrive as early as seven-fifteen—Hermione jumped slightly as the knock reverberated through her ears and walked to the door, opening it to find that it was not the person she was expecting behind her door.
Hermione was crushed by a hug, and she was so shocked that she just stood there, limp, as Harry embraced her tightly.
"Harry…" Hermione managed, not sure what to say to her friend that she hadn't seen outside of Hogwarts in ages; he had only been to her apartment once for an awkward housewarming party where Ginny and Harry stood so far apart that they may as well have been holding two sides of a tape measurer and she would have perfect measurements of her flat.
"You're surprised to see me," Harry observed with a slightly shaky voice. "I know I haven't really been there for you lately, Hermione, but I would never not come after your boyfriend… or even if it was just sex… after Cormac died. Can I come in?"
"Of course," Hermione said softly, not wanting Harry to see the tears forming in her eyes. She felt incredibly touched by his words, but letting him see their effects would only confirm his fears that he had been a bad friend, and she didn't want to do that to him.
"Can I make tea?" Hermione asked, turning around and managing a slight smile.
"You can sit," Harry said, "and I'll make some tea."
Hermione sat tentatively, facing the kitchen with her mouth slightly open and her mind racing as she thought of how much to tell Harry. There was the public version where it was serious with Cormac, but she did not think she could manage to lie to Harry to that extent. Then there was the last version she had told him: it was just sex with a side of invention to explain the newspaper article. Or she could tell him what she had told Ginny.
And the last option was like a shadow in the back of her mind: telling the truth. Hermione knew she had decided not to tell Harry her suspicions about Demetri for legitimate reasons, but were those still her motivations now that she knew Harry was doing much better than she had believed? Wasn't Harry the person most equipped to believe her and to strategize with her regarding Demetri? She kept repeating to herself that she didn't want to burden Harry—that defeating one dark lord should be enough to ensure a life of peace. But a small part of her asked why she had to bear this burden. And an even smaller voice asked if it not wanting to burden Harry was the real reason. Because even though she could barely admit it even in the confines of her own thoughts, she had a visceral reaction to the idea of telling Harry and it had nothing to do with Harry's feelings and everything to do with it feeling like a betrayal.
"Hermione?" Harry's voice cut through as she glanced up and found a cup of steaming tea extended to her.
"Sorry, Harry, I was lost in my thoughts."
Harry sat next to her on the couch and nodded his understanding. "I was just asking how you're coping with all of this. I tried to stop by the Ministry earlier this week and they told me you were gone on a work trip. Hermione, you have to take time to yourself," Harry lightly chastised. "Working through it doesn't do much; trust me, I've tried," he added wryly.
"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, "I need to tell you something, but it has to be kept between us."
Harry nodded solemnly. "Of course," he said simply.
"Cormac and I weren't really together." Harry nodded, letting her continue. "And we weren't ever together either; that is to say, I lied to you before about it being just sex. There was no sex or anything other than a kiss in a restaurant," she continued, trying to keep her voice steady as she mentioned the kiss that she still felt incredibly guilty about.
"I don't understand, Hermione; you were pretending to date Cormac? Why?" Harry asked, no judgment in his voice.
"I can't really say why," Hermione admitted, not wanting to make up another lie to feed Harry. "But I do need to tell you that I've actually been seeing someone entirely different during all of this." And why did she need to tell Harry this? Hermione had already settled on not telling Harry her suspicions about Demetri. It was almost as if she was telling him because she was excited about Demetri.
"Oh," Harry replied, surprised. "Well, I'm glad you have someone, Hermione," he said, awkwardly patting her on the arm. "Is it serious?"
What a question. "I think it is," Hermione replied slowly, nodding to herself, "but I'm scared for it to be."
"I get that," Harry said in a surprisingly understanding voice. "It's hard to trust anyone after what we've been through."
You have no idea.
"You actually know him," Hermione interjected, wanting to turn the topic of conservation away from trust. "It's Demetri."
"Oh," Harry considered this for a moment. "I guess that's why he kept bringing up your name when we had lunch," Harry commented, amused.
Hermione had excused herself to use the restroom when she heard knocking at the door. Cursing silently, she tried to wash her hands quickly, but Harry yelled, "I'll get it!" before she could finish up. As quickly as she could, she dried her hands and walked out into the hallway.
"Harry?" Hermione asked tentatively as she popped out of the restroom to see Harry and Demetri standing in the hallway silently. Demetri would have looked perfectly calm, even concerned, to anyone else, but Hermione saw the way his shoulders were slightly more raised than usual from tension and the contrast between the smooth expression on his face and the way his finger was digging into the fabric by his pants pocket.
Harry, on the other hand, was completely white, the color drained entirely from his face. He looked like he was trying to snap himself out of something and failing, Finally, he blinked a few times and shook his head as if to clear it. "I'm sorry," Harry said in a quiet voice. "Sometimes, since the war…" Harry sighed and seemed to relax slightly, color returning to his cheeks. He forced himself to smile awkwardly. "I apologize, really, drawing my wand on you," he chuckled hollowly. "Hermione and I were just talking about you and how excited I was for her to finally found someone she really likes, and then I go and do something like that." Harry was looking down at his feet and shaking his head, clearly beating himself up.
"Why don't you both come sit down?" Hermione finally settled on saying as she led the odd group back to the living room. She had been torn between interrogating Harry on why he had drawn his wand and comforting him.
Harry sat in her blue armchair while Demetri joined her on the couch, draping his arm around her possessively, his hand digging into her upper arm. Hermione managed a smile and settled for something in between comfort and interrogation. "What happened, Harry?" She questioned softly.
"It's something that happens once in a while," Harry repeated again, still not making eye contact. "I just think I see Voldemort sometimes and of course, it's never him. But when I opened the door, for a minute I thought I saw those gray eyes"—Hermione had to use all her willpower not to make an audible sound—"just like Voldemort had when he was still Tom Riddle, and then I drew my wand on you," Harry said, looking up at Demetri apologetically. "I'm so sorry, again."
"I understand, of course," Demetri said in a deadly calm voice, his face impassive.
"Look, I should go," Harry said, getting up out of the chair he had just sat in, looking as though he couldn't leave fast enough. "You two haven't seen each other in a week, and I just came by to check on Hermione. Maybe one of these days, though, we can all get together."
Hermione's heart broke; Harry was really trying, and he clearly felt terrible. She reached out and gave him a tight hug. "That would be really fun, Harry. Don't you think, dear?" She prodded, looking up at Demetri with a warning look.
"Absolutely," Demetri agreed, shaking Harry's hand. "It was good to see you again, Harry."
Hermione closed the door behind her friend, finding herself closing the lock as slowly as possible as her mind reeled.