She forced herself not to look back at the Manor but failed, and her eyes caught a flash of magic from the far side of the east wing as she started to disapparate.
And Hermione splinched herself…
Please note that this is set the following year.
Year 1999 | 2nd Seventh of May
Chapter 1
Early Morning | Gaelic, Omission, and Admission
"Mo ghràdh mas e do thoil e… Mo ghràdh mas e do thoil e…"
"English and French not enough?"
"Bloody Harry!" Hermione jumped from her chair in surprise and knocked her mug to the floor. "I almost hex you!
"Oy, I knocked and called out— loudly." Harry shook his head in protest, but both hands rose in gesture of surrender.
"I should change my wards and not give you the dismantling mechanism." She mumbled, and ran one hand over her face.
"I really did knock Hermione. You're the one completely lost in your big brain— Again. Studying and filling it with more stuff…"
Hermione shifted away from Harry and made to clear the mess from the now broken mug with swift wand movements. Her actions were also made to subtly shield herself. She knows she is sporting a flushed face, neck, and bare arms. But the reason was not Harry's so sudden appearance.
Her best friend was partially correct, she was indeed lost in her own head. But she was not lost in her lessons. What he walked into was of her, lost in memories…
"So you're learning another language...? Geez Mione, slow down. At the rate you are going, only a handful will be on the same track with you."
"Not really. I just was just checking the translation of something." Hermione responded with the last part almost in a murmur, then added clearly in reproach, "And stop with the exaggeration… Really Harry...? Handful…?"
Hermione moved out of her study room and headed to the kitchen to replace her own drink. She also wanted to end the current topic. She was never comfortable lying to Harry even if the lie is by omission, which she would resort to whenever she did not want to reveal something. And if they don't change the course of their conversation, it will lead to that and she is not mentally and emotionally geared today for such exertion.
"I only have water and orange juice." She offered to Harry who followed her to the kitchen. Her flat has a pitiful size kitchen but she moved into it last May for the two spacious bedrooms, where the other she had used as her study. Plus the location of her flat gave her a pretty easy commute to the Ministry where she started working since July.
"Do you want me to go with you to the market?" Harry offered and she sighed at his ever-generous gesture.
"No need, will do it soon, I was just caught up packing away the materials I accumulated during the mastery revision."
While what she had said was true, it lacked accuracy. Hermione had pretty much operated on autopilot this week and she had the hunch that Harry's visit right now is somehow related to it. She inwardly chastised herself for not making a show of 'I'm fabulously sane, don't worry about me' to her best friend these past few days.
"So what were you saying?" Harry asked after he reached for a glass from one of the shelves.
Hermione silently groaned for her slip; she had hoped that Harry would drop it.
"Just something I've encountered." She answered vaguely, not lying, but not being accurate. And wished that Harry would interpret 'encountered' as something she had read. It was another case of omission…
"Too difficult for my less than golden brain?"
"Don't be a jerk Harrry…" She exasperatedly replied but she managed a half-smile and a retort, "You know that you're not so thick as you sometimes project."
"Then tell me." Harry's tone was gentle but laced with a challenge. She knew Harry caught her evasive tactic.
This last year, he would let her get away with evasion most of the time, especially when there are other people with them. But there were moments when it was just the two of them; her damn best friend would not bulge.
It became an unspoken understanding between the two of them. Primarily, it was to remind each other that everything's the same with them, despite the different lives they moved to after school, after the war. But more importantly, Harry had established it as his way to check up on her, whether she likes it or not…
At the moment, Harry had employed the latter, obviously. She would have to find a way to relent without divulging too much. She inwardly groaned again at her less than steady façade these days. She should have anticipated Harry's tighter watch on her.
"Mo ghràdh mas e do thoil e." She casually spoke the phrase then added, "But I don't really know if I said them correctly."
"What language is that?"
"Gaelic."
"Scottish? Did you find what it says in English?"
"Yeah." She tried her best to sound bored and dismissive.
"So what does it mean?"
Damn her best friend. And damn her inability to shake him off the topic. For a second she thought about saying she does not know, but somehow she knew Harry would not buy it and it might spark a suspicion in him… Plus at the horrible notions of him asking it around made her blurt it.
"My love please… I think that was the translation."
Hermione guessed that Harry had expected something along scholarly context, and at the romantic translation, she almost laughed at his comical expression of mixed surprise and confusion.
But a familiar voice in thick Scottish accent inside her head stopped her in her tracks. 'Hermione, mo ghràdh mas e do thoil e…'
Her brain naturally coupled it with the translation, 'Hermione, my love please…' And a pair of glassy emeralds pierced her mind.
"My love please…?" Harry's tone of clarification roused her from near propelling to something she cannot visit while she is not alone.
She mm-ed an answer and again shifted away from Harry. Simply to protect and hide her thoughts...
"And then?" She heard him asked. With her back to him, she briefly closed her eyes to regain her bearing.
"I… I haven't gotten with the rest." She risked a partial lie, as she cannot bloody say more to Harry.
"I see."
With such response, she thought he finally got over the hundred questions and turned to look at him to ask him of his visit at such early morning. But she should have known that Harry's olive eyes were just waiting to trap her chocolate ones. He then suggested casually and yet gravely, "You could just ask Minerva if you want to be sure."
Hermione tried, really tried not to have a shudder pass through her; she somewhat succeeded and failed. She had suppressed the shudder but knew Harry caught her severe effort. Bloody Wizard-Auror best friend of hers!
Then Harry gave her a look, something that made her utterly uneasy. The look felt like Harry had engaged legilimency; searching through her mind. Except she knew his best friend would never use that kind of magic on her.
She shook herself mentally and thought how it made sense for Harry to mention Minerva. That she should not make a big deal out of it as obviously he knew of the woman's Scottish origin. Furthermore, by some twist of fucking fate, her best friend and the said witch had struck a friendship since the end of Voldemort. Her ever-logical mind understood the circumstances— Minerva lost Albus and Severus. Harry lost Dumbledore and Snape.
Once again, she sighed inwardly. She cannot help the creeping anxiety at the notion that Harry has on his hands some of the pieces. Except there would be zero reason for him to link 'the witch' and the 'encountered phrase'.
For fuck's sake, the Minerva McGonagall that Harry is acquainted with; regardless of their settled friendship, cannot be the one he would ever suspect that would ever say supplication! Still, she silently cursed herself for being caught so lost! Lost in such bloody memory of unforgettable night of passion…
And she cursed the bloody witch who cried such supplication during their passionate encounter… Of Minerva calling out to her, Hermione, 'mo ghràdh mas e do thoil e' in her heavy ancestry… When her fingers were buried in Minerva's… And her mouth was feasting on Minerva…
When secured at her flat with no one else to witness, these were some snippets of what her mind would unlock. She would be helpless in getting lost in them. She would let herself be vulnerable and revisit them… She would bravely replay them— even as tears would follow and cascade down her face in relapsed raw sadness…
And tonight they mark as year old heartaches…
Since she woke up this morning, or rather drifted in and out of restlessness the previous night, these memories have been relentless as they assaulted her… Memories that are deliciously beautiful and equally painful…
For the nth time in such few minutes, she cursed at herself for her inattention. She forced herself to gather her wits and quickly backed track to come up with a fitting reply to what Harry last said.
"Lets not bother the Headmistress for a mere translation." She answered as simply and ignored his observing gaze. Then to leave the matter altogether, she asked, "Why are you here Harry? And quite early in the morning? Everything alright at home?"
Harry continued to stare at her a second longer before the corners of his mouth turned up and lightly responded, "Am I not allowed to visit my distinguished best friend who achieved Mastery Level 1 in two fields?"
Hermione thanked Merlin that Harry finally let go of that topic. But she snorted at Harry's overstatement.
"Come now Mione, first one to complete Mastery level 1 in Charms and Transfiguration! Two fields! For such short time where most would not even finish one! Then beat all exam scores! How can you be dissatisfied with that?"
"Harry, I am more than satisfied. You know that. And you know how really surprised I was with the scores, probably more than everyone! But don't say all scores as I didn't."
"I'm not really surprised that you beat every record; you are truly the brightest Mione. And I could not be more proud of my best friend!" Harry nudged her as he continued to exclaim praise.
"Thanks Harry… Again, you know I did not beat ALL records. "
"You beat Dumbledore's Transfiguration level 1! For me, it's as good as all records."
"It's not the same. And don't say again because I'm dissatisfied, it's not that. I'm merely stating a fact."
"Well, had you taken mastery underneath Minerva, you could have easily tied her record. Actually, I'm sure she'd be happy for you if you'd top her."
Bloody hell. When Harry mentioned 'underneath Minerva' and 'top her', Hermione could not contain her bloody thoughts…
She was assaulted by images of the woman, moving on top of her, with aroused glassy emeralds intensely staring down at her face as their bodies met thrust after thrust.
She bit her inside cheek and summoned all control to not moan at the lusciousness of it. And at the same time, stop the forming tears at the ensuing desolation…
She cleared her brain and pulled on the long comprehended knowledge of who the woman is… Of the awareness of the doom she sentenced herself even before she bent down and kissed the woman that night… Before she entered the witch's bedchamber, she had accepted the consequences of loving the woman who does not love her back— or maybe cannot love her back…
She shook her head both to dispel the destructive thoughts and somewhat gave answer to what her best friend had suggested. She cursed once more at her unstable condition, and hope Harry would just get on with the purpose of his visit and leave her alone.
"She is the Head of Hogwarts Harry, not just any Transfiguration Master."
"Flitwick is the Deputy and he did not miss the chance to have mentored the brightest witch today. I'm sure Minerva would not say no had you asked her."
She said worse than a simple no. Hermione cried inside, remembering the multiple pronouncements of 'It was a mistake' from the woman. What the hell with Harry today that he kept on bumping her to the edge.
"Harry, the woman had- has too much on her plate. She lifted a ruined Hogwarts in less than two months, propelled through complications and opened it by September. All the while anchoring the Ministry on her other hand. It was a surprise she did not kill herself accomplishing things…"
"Much like you didn't kill yourself juggling Ministry work, taking both Charms and Transfiguration mastery?"
"I was just carrying myself Harry, its weightless compared to the combined load of students, school staff and every magical entity in our society— after a war no less… And anyway, one cannot just go to the esteemed woman to ask more of her time that she did not have to give."
Not to mention that the last thing Hermione would want to happen is to find herself on her knees, madly begging Minerva to love her back. Precisely the reason she made sure to evade every function, and every possible meeting without appearing to be avoiding Minerva McGonagall. For almost a year, she managed to be not in the same room as the woman except on two inescapable occasions.
Suddenly she felt the weariness brought by such discussion. She wanted to lie down before she had to face things she'd rather not deal with. She released a sigh, went forth and voiced the reason she knew her best friend was bugging her so early in the morning.
"I already told you Harry, I'll be there tonight."
"Hermione…." She heard the exasperation and knew what was coming next. "I told you, only if you want to be there tonight."
Tonight— the Ministry had decided to hold a ceremony and a party to commemorate the day they declared 'new beginnings' five days after Voldemort was killed and dark days dissipated. And the venue is nowhere else but the great hall of Hogwarts.
Hogwarts. An institution destroyed not only in the literal aspect, but also with many deaths, sufferings and compounded complications it endured during the war. All these were repaired, restored, re-organised and on its apparent ascension to its glorious state— all under the forcible headship of Minerva.
Does she want to be there? An enormous part of her doesn't trust herself to see Minerva. For Merlin knows what she might do when she sees the woman. Slap her beautiful face or kiss her senseless? My God, either would be deadly!
She thought she could just skip it. Officially there was no imposition for her to come; Kingsley had been true to his word. But she knew he would certainly take note of her absence. Not only him, others too, and the last thing she wanted is to draw more attention and probably raised suspicion on why the 'Golden Trio' lacks the 'Golden Brain'.
Rationally, it'd be simpler to just show up and stay away from the woman. Leave as soon as possible, as subtle as possible. Anyway, it's going to be a huge event with hundreds of people in attendance, the mass can certainly serve as barricade between them.
But who is she kidding, Harry would pick the slightest sign if she evades the woman. No stealth would be possible to excuse why Hermione Granger would not go near Minerva McGonagall. In such massive celebration, people may not notice, but for sure Harry will. And she is not ready for his questions that would follow.
Lastly, there is this unmistakable enthusiasm of Harry about coming to Hogwarts. Definitely, Ron has no problem with that. Even George is coming because irony, to help him cope with Fred's lost, he had been visiting the castle. Harry told her that it was Minerva's idea from the start. So she is the only with an issue in coming back to the place they all once called home. Of course it's not the castle per se. She inwardly sighed. She knew Harry's feelings about it and that was the deciding factor. She did want to give that to her best friend.
While the war did solidify their relationship, it was not lost on her how Harry had anchored her while they moved forward with their lives. And to be frank about it, she had felt Harry's desire to return the unreserved backing she had provided the first seven years of their friendship, when he was thrown into the role of the 'boy who lived'… And that somehow, Harry would not let her reject the support that she actually needed.
A month ago, when the formal announcement of the celebration was disseminated, she made a nonchalant acquiescence but she compartmentalised it away as she was focused on her mastery examinations. But when the exam results came out two weeks ago, and she was left somewhat unengaged for the first time in twelve months, Harry prodded and prodded her true feelings about coming to Hogwarts. As if his olive eyes had seen her blanched at every mentioned of the castle.
Eventually she coughed honesty— a partial one. About how she was torn about going and not going, but she will as she knew he'd want her to be there. But Harry wanted her to come in full heart and soul, or don't at all, and especially not for his account. And they had been at it for almost a week. She wished that he'd let it be.
"Hermione…."
"You want me there, I do want to be there for you. Ergo I'll be there Harry."
"We're going circles Mione. I only want you there if you don't sound like you're going to another Horcrux quest!"
"Going back to Hogwarts is not going to war. I'll be fine Harry."
"That's what you said."
"Yes. About time you let it as it is. Really, I'll be fine Harry."
She hated the omission and the getaway, however she could not risk more. But the following statement from her best friend dropped her heart into several degrees of insecurity…
"I meant— that's what you told me and Ron— the last time we were at Hogwarts. After the ceremony that afternoon, you asked for an escape from everyone and everything. You promised that you'd be fine. Next time I saw you… you were bleeding… bleeding severely with part of your thigh desecrated. And I thought you were dead."
Fuck.
This is the last thing she wanted to talk about. And she should have known that despite a year of him not saying anything about it, he would not leave it unspoken forever.
"I splinched Harry." She desperately dowsed the pounding of her heart and pushed for a plain and easy explanation. "I was not concentrating. I just splinched."
"No, Hermione NO!" Harry's full rage slammed into her face.
Fuck. Bloody fuck.
Hermione felt the interrogation bars descended on her at Harry's categorical objection. She realized that Harry's allowance for her to come forth had expired. Her best friend had enough of her silence about that night and had finally decided to drag her into admission.
"When we were on the run, you apparated us all over the country many, many times. We were tired, starving, cold, and under all kinds of strained circumstances— and you had succeeded in bringing us whole each bloody time. You - don't – just – splinch - Hermione."
"Harry, I was just—"
Harry's raised voice cut her off. "Do you know the horrid feeling that choked me when I got a bloodied two word scribble from you? I was so afraid that I almost splinched myself coming to you!"
HELP NOW.
Those two words were the only ones she managed to jot down after landing at her parent's backyard coming from McGonagall Manor. She agonizingly attached the bloodied scroll to the owl, and then she passed out from the pain right there in the backyard.
She was eternally grateful that coincidentally, Harry had earlier sent an owl and was obviously waiting for her. Without that, she would not know how to summon help with her splinched thigh that night.
Harry's angry voice raised further and she winced. "BLOODIED NOTE HERMIONE…! At such awful hours! After I have not heard from you the entire day! After you promised to always let me know where and how you are!"
She understood the exploded anger directed at her. It was sort of a long unexpressed one because when she came to consciousness that early dawn, with Harry's tearful face beside her, but her thigh beginning to heal, she immediately pleaded to him to let the matter rest.
He respected her wish and mummed about it completely, including not telling anyone else. Yes, he tightened his watch on her afterwards but he never breathed a word about that night. Until now…
In a way, she had been prepared to take on his anger, but Harry switched gear and swiped the rug underneath her feet with his pained and guilty confession…
"Do you know how I blame myself for letting you ran away that afternoon at Hogwarts?"
Dammit. She should have known. How inherent for him to incriminate himself particularly how it was obvious that he claimed the role as the 'care taker' in their relationship.
"No, Harry—"
"I let you ran away when I already sensed that you were not really okay… that you needed someone to look after you."
Harry's voice lost its volume and somehow it frightened Hermione more; the words that tumbled out of him were raw and open and she was far equipped to receive them. She'd rather deal with wrath. Not this.
"Harry, the war just ended. None of us was truly okay!"
"That time after we repaired that one hallway while having dinner, I saw it descended on you when without warning you needed to leave Hogwarts.
"Harry—"
"I saw it every time I saw you thereafter. And I even heard your unspoken misery after we buried Severus. And I still did not tie you beside me to make sure nothing bad happens to you."
"Harry, we were all miserable that time. I was not the only one swimming in vagueness those days… You had a lot to deal as well. You just saved the wizarding world! No one should ask more from you."
"But it was my turn Hermione." Harry's voice cracked and Hermione gritted her teeth at hearing the remorse tone. "I'm your best friend, and it was my turn to be there for you. And where the bloody I was? Planning to ask Ginny to marry! Busy moving forward in a speed of light."
"We were meant to move forward Harry. It was my decision to be alone, remember? It was how I was dealing with the aftermath. You were dealing it your own way."
"Hermione, can't you see? Had I not been particularly self-centered that day, I would have realized how it was not so you to be unresponsive. When the owl I sent you did not return, and the sun came down, I should have gone to find you. But where was I? "
"Harry, it was no fault of yours. In fact, it was mine. Each day, we've been checking each other and I forgot to send you a note that day."
"I was wallowing over Molly's less than enthusiastic response after I asked for Ginny's hand. I left the Burrow and ran to Grimmauld and worried the shit out of everyone by not telling anyone and not opening the door even to Ginny and Bill when they came later."
"Harry you were trying to move forward the way you wanted to—"
"The fact remains that I did not look for you when the sun came down and I should have. I should have worried why you did not arrive at Grimmauld when I wrote you to meet me there."
"Harry, think… you were having some issues and I was not there for you too."
"Just because Minerva forced her way into the house and sat me down, then kind of did what I was expecting you to do— talked me into it, or out of it. I forgot to be worried about you…"
Harry's statement threw Hermione into turmoil. Did he just tell her that Minerva was with him that night…? Just hours before the bloody woman came back to the Manor…! And broke her bloody heart into thousand pieces…!
"I forgot about my best friend who got herself splinched because over tea and ginger newts, I rambled about my feelings and plans to Minerva. Even though I sensed that she was due elsewhere, for two hours or maybe three, I talked her ear off."
The uproar from the depths of Hermione's guts was clawing her inside for confrontation. Bloody, bloody hell, she just uncovered a huge part of where and what Minerva was doing before she came home that bloody night!
"I forgot about you because I had someone who patiently made me see how it was natural and prudent for people who had survived more than one war to be tentative in making life-altering decisions. That Molly and Arthur were simply making sure that I was not making irreversible decisions borne of war aftermath."
The produced implications proved too much and had spun her head into an overdrive. But Hermione gathered her control, at least until Harry leaves… Until she could sort the details of what she just discovered.
"I forgot about you Hermione. I forgot because I already had Minerva attending to my drama. And even lent me her impeccable perception to see through unrealistic or conflicting things I wanted to do. Something I would have gotten from you as well had you been there. But you were not and I… I did not care. I forgot… I forgot to look after you."
Unknowingly, Harry dealt her another card… Another piece stripped on what had been unknown… on how Minerva spent the prior hours… on what she had thought… on what she had said… before they all came down…
"Hermione, I could have…. I should have gone out sooner and found you before your bloodied note found me!"
"It's alright Harry. You came anyway in the end and saved me. That was the important thing."
"It was not alright." Harry's anger came back in full force and he moved nearer to her, seemingly intended to assure himself that she is in fact alright and standing in front of him, and at the same time trapped himself into self-flagellation, and her into admission. "You splinched Hermione!"
"Yes. And it was over Harry… A year over…" She fixed her expression to hide the commotion inside her soul, as she cannot, and would not let Harry find out the reason she splinched herself. Too much she cannot reveal…
"But you never splinched! You DON'T just splinched! That night something happened, something most serious. I do not know what it was… Of course there were tons I didn't know- a lot I still don't know. But I know that something fell on you that night at the dining hall and drove you unhinged... your impeccable discipline faltered... and it got yourself splinched few nights after."
"I let myself splinched? Don't be ridiculous Harry! We just survived a war, of course we were unhinged." Her self control and patience had began running low and Harry's hitting the marks unbeknownst to him is setting her further to the edge.
"But something happened…" Harry grounded his jaw in an effort to rein his anger but he failed and he half screamed at her. "That something eventually set you into your mad quest to kill yourself with work after work after work! You don't think I've noticed?"
Hermione averted her eyes from the interrogating olive ones of Harry's. She scuffled for preservation and the weapon she got hold is to match Harry's anger. "Don't you use your Auror-training on me!" She spat at him.
The silence that ensued felt like a physical heavy curtain that draped to suffocate her. For an undetermined time, neither of them moved or said anything else. She knew Harry was just worried, she could feel his concern to the bones. She knew he was just trying to reach for her. But for the past year, she had carefully wrapped and shielded from anyone else how unbalanced she really is. But now, her best friend had painted it red in front of her.
She shut her eyes and gathered her emotions. For the first time she felt like she cannot take the the loneliness, and she wanted and needed to let Harry in. But her ever-logical mind prompted how this was not just about her. She reflected who Minerva McGonagall had become to Harry— she cannot create a possible wedge between them. Harry cannot know that Minerva had made love to her then fucked her heart afterwards. He would be torn for sure and she cannot involve him that way.
She almost laughed how it turned out that Harry was the imbecile who delayed Minerva's coming home that night. Harry just said that he knew that Minerva was due elsewhere. Due to come home to her… When Minerva did come home many hours belated, it was fucked up.
Hermione had yet to contemplate the details that Harry had unknowingly revealed. But her quick mind had easily inferred how the talks with him of plans, of marriage, of age and of aftermath decisions had played a crucial part in Minerva's altered decision to be with her.
She started to exit the kitchen meaning to escape and altogether end the discussion. But Harry moved nearer to her, and eliminated what little space they had in between. She held her breath and attempted to shift away but apparently her best friend was intent on locking her. Left with no choice, she tapped on her long buried Gryffindor and met his olive eyes.
"What do you want from me Harry?" She asked tightly to cover the shaking she felt since the beginning of their conversation.
"I am sorry for overstepping." Once again, Harry tipped her further into destabilisation with his woeful tone. It made her heart stricken further. "I really just want you to see that I am here for you Hermione."
"Harry, I know that. But I'm just—."
"I do not want you to tell me things if you don't want to. But I wish… I wish its not because you think you cannot tell me… We made a promise, we promised to never run away from each other. You know that it means in every sense…"
Harry reached for her hands, gave her an assuring squeeze and did not let go. She understood and believed him. She knew as well that Harry knew that she was hiding something from him. And he was telling her that he will never force her. And before she could stop herself, she started crying. It became too much but she can't say anything, so the tears spoke out. Harry pulled her in an embrace and just held her without asking for any explanation.
After sometime, she heard Harry say, "Ron talked to me yesterday, and asked in his moronic way if you have started your mastery level 2. But we both know Ron; we both know that that what he actually asked was why you are sleeping less. And with the Hogwarts battle anniversary recently, he was worried how it was affecting you."
"Yeah, he stopped by my office three days ago and forced a roast beef sandwich to my hands. And as usual, he forgot it was his favorite and not mine!"
They both chuckled and it was the needed break for their emotional charged conversation. But she felt her heart swell at her two best friends' genuine concern for her, their love for her, and it triggered new tears and slipped down her face.
"Remember that time that I thought I hurt Arthur by becoming Voldemort's serpent? You were the only one who demanded that I look into your eyes, then called how bullshit it was, and rationalized the hell out of why it was not possible."
Hermione nodded in acknowledgement as she recalled that incident. On the way to Grimmauld, she had correctly predicted that Harry had employed self-loathe and misplaced self-blame. She drew him out of his self-imposed quarantine as soon as she arrived and dealt with him the way he just recounted.
Harry shifted her in his arms, then lifted her tear strained face to look into her eyes and continued his discourse, "That's who we are to each other Mione. Don't forget."
Fresh tears sprung into her brown eyes, and Harry's own olive ones watered as well. "Harry..." She cried both in guilt and distress.
She had hurt her best friends from hiding. The last year, in her mission to avoid Minerva, she knew she had neglected her friends. While she was indeed overloaded with work, she made use of them as excuses not to attend dinners and gatherings because she knew Minerva was invited. Even if the woman was not expected to come, she skipped them, as she won't risk being in the same place with her. If her friends did not make the extra effort to seek her, she would have seen none of them. Ron would drop by her office from time to time, even George and Ginny. And Harry, he made sure to see her several times in a week. Forcing her to have lunch, to have dinner, to take a break from working...
"It's alright Mione. I just really want you to realize that you have us. You are not alone and would share your burden if you let us..."
The burden… the burden of loving Minerva… How utterly insane that after all these months, she was not less in love with Minerva. Perhaps more so brought by that precious evening of seventh of May. It was not just that they made love. But the woman shared food with her, permitted her to be with the private Minerva, and even saved her from nightmare. And despite the heartache from the following night's rejection, she knew she would never gamble the woman's character by telling her best friend of what transpired. That she would protect Minerva at the consequence of self-isolation. More so now that she found out a piece of the picture of what made Minerva ultimately reject her.
But at the moment, she really wanted to pour out her heart to Harry… Or just to ease a bit of her heartache… Then it dawned on her.
"Harry…?"
Harry seemed to have sensed that she had unfastened one compartment of her heart, and he shifted her again so they are looking at each other's eyes.
"Harry…" She swallowed the lump in her throat and in a voice that shook, plunged with the admission to her best friend, "Harry, I'm gay."
Hermione held her breath and waited for the axe to swing. She watched Harry's forehead furrowed, then his eyes had become distant, then he screwed up his face, then it settled into a somber one.
"Did you ever lose sleep about how I would react?" Harry asked her quietly.
"Yes." She exhaled in consternation.
"Then you wasted sleep over nothing."
"Harry…"
Hermione shuddered at the suppressed elation and because she had learnt to be cautious, she voiced the necessary amplification.
"I am gay Harry. It means I would never love a man in the same capacity that you love Ginny. It is something not everyone accepts. And this is not something you might think that might go away one day."
"I know Hermione."
"Are you not disappointed, apprehensive, or disgusted that I am— that you have a gay best friend?"
"You're my best friend Mione. Period."
Tears ran down Hermione's cheek at the simplistic and open acceptance she got from Harry that seeped into her heart. She felt herself pulled and felt strong arms wrapped around her in a hug. She buried her face at Harry's shirt and she felt more than she saw that he too was crying from the rumbled in his chest.
"I have not told anyone else Harry. I'm not ready for others to know. Even Ron. I will tell him next, but it won't be soon, it might be harder for him to understand."
Strangely, this made Harry cried even more and when she asked why, he said that he could not help but realized how alone she must have felt. And how heavy it must have been to understand that not all would easily understand. In effect, new tears welled over her Hermione's brown eyes. For quite some time, they were a mess as they hugged and cried.
When they were both ready, they let go. But both felt a new degree of profound friendship. It was like that moment during their first year when they were salvaging the philosopher's stone, when they parted at the potion stage. Except that she was not going back to retrieve Ron from the smashed giant chess board to get help and Harry was not going to stop the enemy who was after the stone.
"Go home to Ginny, and I'll see you both later at Hogwarts." She smiled at him, and somewhat conveyed her promise that truly she would be okay about tonight's event.
Harry stared at her intently for few seconds as if to shred any obfuscation. Then he grinned and teased her, "Hermione, you don't fancy my wife right?"
"Harry!" She threw him a playful punch and then laughed aloud at his incorrigible joke. Then she wandlessly sent a soft stinging hex at him and she laughed louder at his seemingly dancing movements from the tingles.
"Alright, alright stop with the hex! You can't fault me for asking…" Harry raised both his hands in surrender and laughed with her. They laughed some more until they fell into an assuring silence.
"Go Harry. I think I'll try to sleep a bit."
She walked him towards her flat main door and before Harry stepped out, he made one last confirmation. "Do you want me to come by later? We could apparate to Hogwarts together."
"Thanks Harry. But I'll just see you there, alright?" She responded in assurance.
"Alright." Harry kissed her cheek and headed out but before the door shut, she heard him say, "Hermione, later you could ask Minerva what comes after 'My love please' for your Gaelic translation..."
She felt herself respond in a non-committal nod, and then released the breath that caught in her lungs when Harry finally left.
"Mo ghràdh mas e do thoil e" She uttered to her empty flat.
End of Chapter 1 – Year 1999 | Gaelic, Omission, and Admission
A/N
1- Hello. I had to write Harry and Hermione profound friendship:)
2- I used google search for the Gaelic phrase, if I had them incorrectly, please let me know.
3- If there are holes with the details, will try to squeeze them in the next chapters :)
4- Again, I am just borrowing from JK.