What Makes Us
Chapter 22: A Spell
June 2001
He was looking at her with the kind of smile that could warm through her entire day.
"It's nothing," she told him, but she felt herself smiling back, just as pleased, just as excited.
"No, it's incredible," he laughed. "And more than a little terrifying, but still, I'm grateful, Hermione."
She gave him a hug, then, pulled him close and breathed him in almost before she realised it. She caught herself. But he was smiling, and happy, and did not draw away.
This was alright. He still smelt like the sunshine of the forests they'd lain in, and that was alright. She was seeing Josef now; she had moved on.
"Thank you, Hermione," Remus was saying again. He sounded so very happy, and looked it, and she was delighted to be the one who had done it. Now that she could allow herself to be near him again, she permitted herself, too, to admire him once again. She had done so ever since she had known him, quite innocently, and so there was nothing wrong with doing so once more. He was a man of many good qualities, and she was certain that most who knew him thought the same of him.
Somewhere in her mind a little voice sounded, whispered of protesting too much, but she paid it little attention. Finally she was happy again. She could be without him and be happy; she could be with someone else and be happy. All was well again, at last.
As she took her leave of Remus, Hermione mused again over the success of having found him a very interested publisher for his book. It put her in a good mood, and she found herself looking forward to her evening date with Josef even more than usual. Josef was a good man, too, or so he seemed, so far. He was gentle and strong, quietly confident. He had kind eyes, too. She liked him.
By the end of the evening, she decided that she liked him very much indeed. They were at her flat, watching a movie curled up together on her sofa, and she kissed him. His hand rose to her cheek, slowly, gently, and she allowed herself to lean in a little more, press in a little closer. He sat up a little then, gathering her to him. She could feel his had upon her waist, her hip, and this time she did not draw away.
He looked into her eyes and murmured: "I like you, Hermione," and she smiled. Yes, she liked him too.
August 2001
The owl came on a night she was with Josef, and it was in his living room that she untied the furl of parchment and read the letter from the Ministry.
"What is it?" he asked. His tone was light, but she could feel the curiosity in his gaze upon her. For she could feel, too, that she had frozen, and gone a little cold.
Miss Granger:
I am writing to follow up on the appointment you made at our office, but regrettably missed. I am conscious of the fact that frequently there is some memory or knowledge that those who return from dislocation feel they ought not to possess. And yet often there can be some other memory with which they are unwilling to part. I am not certain this applies to your situation. I wish only to remind you, gently, that it is better to perform a removal sooner rather than later.
There is nothing that can be gained from holding on too tightly to the past; and in my experience, those I have worked with who have done most well after return from a dislocation are those who chose, not long after, to remove all memories from the past. I cannot, of course, and would never compel you to undergo memory modification. I write only because it pains me to witness the suffering in my patients who did not move on. They dwell in the past, wavering on the choice between worlds, and so fail to thrive in the present.
I hope you can forgive my intrusion. If you so choose, you are welcome to make another appointment at any time. But it is, of course, your decision to make.
Sincere regards,
Mark M.
Department of Memory,
THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC
"What's the matter?"
Josef came close; automatically she folded the letter. But she answered: "It's––from the Ministry."
"What do they want?"
"It's about memory. My memories, from the past year."
He knew by now that she meant the past year that she alone had experienced. "What about them? Do they want to know them?"
"They're asking if I want to remove them. To...help me move on."
"Ah," Josef said. He paused. In the quiet she could almost hear the thoughts in his mind. What memories? What is it you want to forget?
But he did not ask the question. Instead, he gently put an arm around her, and she let him draw her in a little, let him comfort her. She could never admit, even to herself, that she might sometimes long for the comfort of another.
"Do you want to?"
She shrugged, shook her head.
She knew she ought to. And yet...all was well. She was no longer caught up entirely with Remus' memories; she was happy at work and happy with Josef. The need to overcome her memories grew less urgent each passing day. She would be fine. She was fine.
September 2001
"And what did you think?" Ginny looked awed, tracing a finger over her wine glass.
"I thought...well, I'm not sure. It wasn't like anything I'd ever seen before."
"I thought you weren't allowed to speak of your work?" Josef teased. He passed behind Hermione to reach the cabinet for more drinks, dropping a kiss on her cheek as he went.
"Oh, this was cleared for public release," Hermione answered with a smile. "Don't worry, I keep the truly confidential things for you."
"Naughty, Hermione," Tonks commented, causing Hermione to go rather pink, a situation not improved when Remus joined his wife at the kitchen door. but then her thoughts turned to wonderment that she was even doing this––hosting a dinner for friends in her flat. Mere months ago it had seemed an impossibility, something she could scarcely begin to contemplate. Now she could do it, was doing it.
Hermione looked up from her moment of contemplation to find Remus' eyes upon her. He smiled at her when she noticed, and looked away. But in that second before he did so, she saw in his face that same quiet affection she had counted on in that other time. The expression––the set of his mouth, the warmth in his kind eyes––it was the younger Remus, the other Remus, through and through. She found she had caught her breath, her heart constricting painfully in that moment. He was looking away now, however; she could regain herself. He had not noticed. She did not consider whether anybody else had.
"Congratulations, Hermione. It's quite the honour. I hear there were many, many applicants this year."
She smiled at the older wizard, her colleague at the Ministry. "Thank you Roger! I'm really quite excited about it."
"You're going to do great things, no doubt."
Josef gave her a quizzical look once the older wizard offering her congratulations had moved on, exiting the lift lobby of the Ministry. "What is it? Congratulations, of course."
Hermione took his arm and said, "They've chosen me to go on secondment to the French Ministry next year. They're considered the absolute top of the field for the research I'm currently working on, so it's such a great opportunity..."
Josef squeezed her hand, giving her a warm, enthusiastic grin. "Brilliant, Hermione! You deserve it, I'm sure."
Together they took the Floo channel to Harry and Ginny's flat, where a group of them had planned to have dinner and listen to the quidditch. Harry greeted them and conjured drinks; and Hermione, having taken hers, found herself sitting down next to Josef at the table, whilst Remus had taken the seat directly opposite her.
"Congratulations again, Hermione!" Remus spoke warmly. "I'm sure you're incredibly excited about it."
"About what?" inquired Ginny.
"Hermione's been chosen for the Department secondment to France," said Remus, giving her a fond smile that warmed her through.
"Oh, that's lovely, Hermione, congratulations!"
Hermione smiled, though she noticed that beside her Josef seemed to be giving Remus an odd sort of look she could not quite place. Searching, perhaps; curious, not quite hostile. She remembered, then, that Josef hadn't known of her selection for the secondment programme; and was perhaps now wondering how Remus had come to know so soon.
She tried to avoid looking at Remus, though she was not quite sure why, and she especially tried to avoid looking at Josef and Remus in the same breath. Her task was made a little easier when Ginny sat down on her other side and demanded to hear more about France. And somehow she managed not to think too much of him––or of Josef––for the rest of the night.
"Do you want to come over?" she asked at the end of the evening. Josef smiled back at her; they were on their way to the nearby alley for a discreet Disapparition.
"I think I won't, tonight," he said. "I'm sorry. I've got some things to wrap up before work tomorrow..."
"It's alright," she told him, quickly. "Don't worry about it."
He nodded. They shared a warm embrace before taking their leave, each disapparating back to their respective flats. As Hermione let herself in and toed off her shoes, she thought over the dinner, the searching look she'd seen in Josef's eyes, and wondered at the sense of relief she felt, now, to be alone at home. She had been relieved when he had declined to come back with her.
I just need some time alone, she thought, and began to get ready for bed.
She had not seen Josef in a week. She realised this suddenly, on her way to the shops after work. They had exchanged messages, but neither had had the time recently to meet up. It was normal, she reasoned; work was busy for her, and important. Things with Josef were going well––were they not? She was ready to move forward; she liked him, after all. Things were fine.
But another part of her pointed out that there were other people she'd seen in the past week. Harry, and Ginny. And Remus. But this did not have to mean anything. No, things were alright. She would owl Josef as soon as she got home.
Josef, it turned out, must have had the same idea, for she had only just gotten home when there was a knock at her front door. He was carrying takeaway, and a bottle of wine.
"I missed you," he said, giving her a kiss; and she, turning away odd thoughts of stars and clouds and trees, returned it.
When she woke the next morning in his arms, she felt a familiar, well-worn sadness wash over her, and a sense of guilt she could not deny. She lay there for a while, thinking somehow of nothing, feeling the sadness and guilt mix within her like sand with the eddying tide. And, despite all she had told herself the previous night, despite all she had resolved within herself in the last few months, she knew. She knew what she had to do. She did not love him.
"And was there..." Josef stopped. "Is there someone else?"
"Of course not." Hermione answered almost in reflex, instinctively offended that he could accuse her of such a thing.
Only he was not quite without a point, she knew, and looking at him, she thought that he knew it too. So she said: "Not––here. But when I was gone...I thought I was done with it, but I'm...I'm just not. I'm sorry, Josef."
"Not here?" His voice was soft. "Or––not just here?"
Her heart caught in her throat. Nevertheless she managed to reply:
"Not here."
Josef shook his head, and for a moment she was afraid of what he would say next. The moment passed; Josef rose slowly from the dining table, and offered her a sad smile.
"You've been through a lot, Hermione, I know," he said. "So...I do wish things could be different for us. But I cannot change how you feel."
She looked down as she rose to join him.
"Goodbye, Hermione."
A/N: Thank you, as always, for reading! Thank you also, anonymous commenters, and dear Georgie, please be assured that personally I could not make Hermione's heartache go on forever ;)
I also wanted to take this opportunity to wish you all well. Please take care of yourself, and your loved ones. Stay at home as much as you are able to. These are tough times, but we will get through this. Never forget that we are all in this together.
