Once again thank you for all the amazing reviews. We cherish each one! Enjoy this 2nd part of Paris...
Also, we're currently working on our entry for the Harmony & Co Christmas Advent (stay tuned for 23/12), so the next chapter might suffer a bit of a delay.
"It's you, it's actually you!" A smile appeared on her face but not quite reaching her ears. She surprised him to the core by somehow managing to wrap him in a tight bear hug, despite the table between them.
"Hello Hermione," He warmly said, feeling a bit flustered as he reciprocated the hug. "We meet again."
"I–how?" She was speechless.
"Miss Granger, your event will end in a quarter of an hour and the line isn't at its end yet." The man beside her reminded before Harry could explain. She only nodded at the man and instantly started writing on Harry's book.
"Please read. Sorry. Later?" She whispered in post-haste to him as she handed the book. Harry left the line before he could react and respond, as he was impatiently prompted by the man. He walked to the area next to the stairs that led to the second floor and opened to the title page as he settled himself.
To 007, with love.
Please wait for me after the event. By the blue chair in the History section.
Hermione Moneypenny
…
Harry wandered about the bookshop scanning the shelves for interesting titles, just to kill time as he waited. From where he was, checking out the travel books he had a clear view of the blue chair and history section she mentioned. It annoyed Harry that his skin still tingled from Hermione's hug just minutes before. Even after all these years, affection and physical touch were still foreign to him, he blamed his abusive and loveless upbringing, though it was something he'd long made peace with.
It was then that he saw her approach the chair, finding it empty. She wore an elegant maroon sweater, maybe of cashmere, and dark jeans that flattered her figure as well as dark leather ankle boots. Only now he noticed she wore small and delicate earrings that dangled. He could tell they weren't the sort one would find at the jewelry shop, but rather handcrafted and painted ones, probably purchased in one of the many places Hermione had been to. She looked just as he remembered her, effortlessly pretty. Close to no make-up at all, curly hair still framing her face in that rebellious way that was so very much her.
"You dedicated your book to me…" He pointed out, with a smug grin, holding his copy up.
"Yeah, I did… For some reason our day in Vienna really stuck with me, you know?" He nodded, quietly. And then the saucy passages he'd read came to the forefront of his mind, and just like a teenage boy he couldn't help himself.
"Are all of those naughty bits subliminal messages for me?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her, adoring how her cheeks turned a bright red. She walked closer to him wearing an amused smile, swatting him on the arm.
"Of course not, you wanker!" Harry laughed at her flattery.
"Forgive me for thinking myself worthy of your good graces." He winked at her flirtatiously and she pouted adorably, knitting her eyebrows together and glaring at him like an angry kitten.
"Oh, Harry, will you be serious for a minute!" Hermione begged, the atmosphere around them suddenly shifting. "Look, for some reason I really missed you… I, I never thought it possible for a person that I met for only a day to make such a lasting impact on my life…" He nodded, his teasing smile fading.
"To be honest, Hermione, I'm rather relieved you feel the same as me…" Harry admitted, eyes locking with hers. "When I saw your name in the newspaper, that you were here in Paris as well… At first I couldn't believe it, but then suddenly all I wanted, all I cared to do was come running and go through this endless queue of people to see you."
"I'm so glad you did…" She smiled brightly at him, her eyes sparkling and beautiful. "Would you like to have dinner?"
Before Harry could respond a man appeared next to her, wrapping an arm casually around Hermione's shoulder. He wore elegant midnight-blue trousers and matching vest over a white dress shirt, his hair the exact opposite of Harry's, perfectly coiffed, well-cut and flattering. He looked at Harry up and down, a smile appearing on the corner of his sharp blue eyes.
"Who's this, Bunny?" he asked Hermione, who shook his arm away, looking every bit annoyed at the silly nickname.
"Fabian, this is Harry. Harry, my beloved cousin Fabian."
"Not the one with the pet badger, I hope!" Was Harry's response, a bit of relief washing over him as he wiped away any irrational fears that the practically perfect-looking human being wasn't Hermione's significant other of sorts. Fabian's eyes lit up and a Cheshire-cat smile appeared on his face.
"Ah, so Bun-Bun told you all about me!" He turned to Hermione and bumped her gently, "I knew I was the most interesting thing in your life!" Harry couldn't help but laugh at Hermione's visible annoyance, watching as she rolled her eyes at him much like she'd roll her eyes at Harry in Vienna. "Say, Harry… Such an English name!" Fabian flirted, "Do you have plans for tonight?" He winked at him salaciously.
Harry's eyes turned toward Hermione and he laughed at her expression of pure horror.
"Only if it involves a three-way, I'm afraid!" He winked at Hermione who gasped, her eyes going almost as wide as saucers.
"Oh, Harry, I'm afraid I'm not a big fan of bushes, much less two bushes… If you catch my drift…" Fabian responded, apologetically, only to be punched in the arm by his cousin who was by now a malagueta pepper, her face so red Harry thought she might implode. Harry laughed like he hadn't in a long, long time and soon even Hermione joined him, leaning on the floor-to-ceiling shelf for support.
"You idiot, I can't believe you said that!" She scolded her cousin in between laughs.
"You don't have a brother, love, so someone has to play the part!"
That was how Harry Potter found himself standing in Fabian Bell's living room an hour later, overwhelmed by all of the bold-colored printed wallpaper, pots and more pots of plants and greenery and silk Indian saris for curtains and sofa pillow cases. The rug was Turkish and the whole room should be considered a prime example of how not to mix styles and textiles, but somehow, miraculously it looked absolutely stunning. And very, very Fabian.
"Well, the kitchen beckons, I'm afraid…" Fabian cried out dramatically. "Don't misbehave too much while I'm gone! It's the first time Bunny brings a boyfriend home!" He ruffled his cousin's hair in a patronizing manner that she swerved away from, cursing him under her breath.
As soon as Fabian turned away Hermione plopped down on the magenta Chesterton sofa, tired from the hours of signing books. She watched Harry look around the living room, examining the pictures frames on the wall, until his eyes fell upon a large image of a beautiful woman, it looked old-fashioned, but the lady itself was exquisite with her dark waves of hair, translucent skin and watery blue eyes. She had an air of mystery, but was also smooth and sensual… She looked like an actress.
"Your cousin a fan?" Harry pointed and Hermione followed his gaze.
"I guess you can say that… Though in reality that's our granny."
"Your granny?" Harry asked in disbelief, "your grandmother?" Hermione's hands went to her hips and she looked at him in that sharp manner that meant she was serious.
"She was an actress… Cynthia Bell. Of course, her actual name as per family tradition was Hyacinth, we're all cursed with impractical names… She passed away when Fabian and I were both nineteen, she was the best really. She lived here in Paris and the two of us spent all of our summers here with her, until the very end. She died at 99-years-old." Harry nodded in understanding.
"Was she very famous?"
"Famous?" Harry nodded, "Oh Harry, she was more than famous, she was a star and very much a diva…" And then Hermione leaned in and whispered: "Fabian is too much like her if you ask me and I hate that he solely inherited all of her good looks!" Harry laughed heartily at her comment.
"Do you not own a mirror, Hermione? You look a lot like your granny, especially the pretty hair." Hermione scoffed, waving off his compliment.
"My hair is not pretty." It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes then.
"You're right, your hair is better than pretty…" Hermione raised a brow quizzically, Harry shrugged, "Your hair is wild, I like it, suits you." His words, as well as the intensity of his gaze, made her blush for the umpteenth time this evening, and Hermione didn't like it one bit.
Moments later they were both sitting on the sofa, in comfortable and tired silence, each one with their glass of martini, courtesy of chef Fabian who was putting the final touches on their dinner. And then her voice quietly cut away the silence:
"Will you properly say goodbye, this time?" Harry turned his head, their eyes locking.
"Unless you're passed out drunk, yes." She smiled and nodded, taking his hand in hers.
"I'll try not to…" Before Hermione could say anything else Fabian appeared from inside the kitchen, donning his apron and matching chef's hat.
"Dinner time, love doves! Let's get moving to the table!" Hermione groaned dramatically.
"My stomach is dreadfully hungry, but dreadfully dismayed it is vegan food," Hermione complained to Harry, who to be quite honest had no idea what vegan even was.
"Oh, zip it! It'll do you good, Bun-Bun!" Fabian said, patting her belly, implying she was overweight. "Your sweet tooth will be the death of you, remember your Granddad Granger?" Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry chuckled, and then he turned to Harry and whispered: "Old man was so wide he barely fit into his casket, think Winston Churchill, type."
Dinner progressed relatively smoothly with Harry being pleasantly surprised with the knowledge that vegan food didn't include any meats, dairy or other derivatives. Despite Fabian's efforts, he quite missed delighting in a good pot roast, pork chops or even a juicy steak. Thoughts of Molly Weasley's indescribably good cuisine filled his mind but gave him enough appetite to go on and eat everything of which Fabian had set on the table hungrily. Hermione watched him with curious eyes, though she was a bit tipsy as this was her fourth or fifth glass of red wine. She needed something to wash away the horrible taste of soy 'meat' from her mouth. Fabian watched them with interest and smugness he just couldn't hide. When Harry finally finished off the last of the chickpea salad, pushing his plate a bit forward and wiping his mouth with a napkin, Hermione's cousin rested his chin on his linked hands, a sly grin on his face.
"Hermione, don't you just love a man with an appetite?" The way he said it, sensually, eyes locking with Harry's was enough to make a blush creep onto the wizard's cheeks and for Hermione to choke on her garlic bread.
Harry coughed, nervously, his eyes locking with Hermione's, who was now laughing soundly, throwing her head back and shaking in delight. Tipsy Hermione was a sight for sore eyes.
"Err–Fabian… What is your line of work?" Harry asked, in an obvious attempt to take the man's attention away from flirting him.
"Oh, Harry, I thought you'd never ask!" he exclaimed with a dramatic flourish which was something Harry surmised was genetic, having learned of their movie-star grandmother. Hermione was prone to dramatics herself, if he well remembered their short time together in Vienna. "I am a veterinarian for the stars!"
"Stars?" Harry asked, knitting his brows together in confusion. "Aren't veterinarians like doctors for animals?"
"Yes, indeed, but I don't work for your everyday mutt or kitten, no, my friend. I work with superb creatures… Exotic birds, elephants, wolves, cobras, tigers… Just about any animal that is set to star in a film or show. Like I said, I work for stars. Did you see that recent movie, about the golden retriever that dies? I was a veterinarian to that dog. He almost won a Golden Globe, you know… Leonardo DiCaprio who?" Hermione couldn't help but laugh even louder, her face turning red.
"I can't believe you think a dog would be capable of winning a movie award! You're bloody delusional, Fabian!" She finally said as she sipped some water to ease the pain in her belly from all the humor.
"Delusional are you, Bunny, who thinks people will like watching documentaries about lepers." Her cousin retorted rather cruelly. Hermione clicked her tongue in distaste at his poor comment and rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I'm currently working with lemur monkeys for a new movie… Something about midnight in a big old museum."
"That's actually an interesting line of work. I have a friend who works with dragons…" Fabian bent his neck and shared a look with Hermione that screamed 'this one's bonkers'. Harry noticed and immediately fixed his mistake, "Actually, I think they're komodo dragons?"
"Oh, that's quite interesting. Those are quite lethal…" Fabian responded. "I would like to meet this friend of yours one day, Harry… Perhaps we'd have more in common…" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "If you know what I mean…"
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Fabian!" Hermione admonished him. "Not everyone is yours for the taking!" Fabian frowned, looking rather taken aback. "Dinner was quite nice, but to be honest I could use the main course right about now. Harry, walk with me." Harry, surprised, excused himself from the table and from Fabian and followed her out of the door and into the street. "God, these pastries have been calling my name…" She exclaimed, entering the Portuguese pastry shop right next to Fabian's building. Harry chuckled.
"I could use a pastel de Natas myself… Hopefully the ones here are as good as the ones in Lisbon…" Both of them looked at the delectable array of pastries, suddenly feeling that vegan dinner evaporate from their stomachs and making more room for dessert.
"Bonsoir!" Hermione called out to see if anyone would come out to service them. In walked a handsome young man of dark hair and eyes wearing an apron with the logo. It didn't take long for the delicious, sweet and crunchy pastries with warm custard and cinnamon to make their evening even better.
They found themselves a seat, having decided on staying a bit longer and catching up without Fabian maliciously commentating on the littlest of looks.
"Finally! Real food! I haven't had these for ages..." Hermione took a bite of the pastel, letting that custard and flaky goodness explode in her mouth causing her to let out a very audible moan. Extreme bliss was on her face as she ate up another.
Harry who had let himself get distracted by her, cleared his throat. Personally, he never thought it fascinating to watch someone eat, at least not after witnessing his friend Ron attack his meals three times a day every day for seven years. But with Hermione there was a certain wonder and joy that simply radiated, like a brilliant quidditch move he could replay all over again. "So… Fabian… He's interesting…" Harry started, nibbling at his pastry.
"I love him but sometimes he's just too much..." Hermione said, with a shake of her head, taking another pastel.
"Ever thought that perhaps he feels the same way about you?" Harry pushed the plate toward her, feeling that she should eat the rest of it since he'd taken his fill of Fabian's vegan food earlier.
"Are you sure?" She asked about the pastries, before gladly accepting the rest of it and taking a sip from her cup of black coffee. "And yes, he probably does. I don't have a sibling, you know, and he doesn't have one either so we sort of have this dynamic with each other. He's my only cousin…" She was quiet for a moment before the corners of her lips curved into a wistful smile. "We lived close to one another growing up in London, my mum and his mum are twins and having grown up together they wanted the same for us. We spent the summers of our childhood here in Paris with our granny and after he finished Uni, he moved immediately. This was always his favorite place on Earth. Granny had always let us be free and entirely ourselves, so I reckon this was where he felt he could be himself, make a home." Harry nodded, enjoying the tidbits of information about her family that she was sharing.
"What about you? Have you got a cousin you'd love to hate and vice versa?" She had finished the last piece and wiped the corners of her mouth with a tissue.
Harry thought for a while about his only cousin Dudley who had used him as a punching bag during all their boyhood years. He later realized that Dudley had bullied him mostly because of Uncle Vernon's deplorable example and well, because Dudley had been a dunce growing up. Later though, in their adult life, having matured enough, his cousin took the initiative to apologize and make amends with Harry. The two of them as of a few years created a more cordial relationship, occasionally meeting up at the pub to watch muggle sports like rugby or boxing. But it would never be like what Hermione and Fabian had, that was friendship and love. Perhaps only the relationships Harry had with his mates could compare. He briefly thought of Ron who was soon to be married, of Neville who had just been made Herbology professor at Hogwarts and of Luna Lovegood who much like him was a world traveler, but following her passion of magizoology.
"You missed a spot." He purposely changed the topic and gestured on his own mouth to where Hermione should clean. She wiped the opposite side. Harry wanted badly to wipe it himself but that felt like overstepping an imaginary boundary and if Fabian were here, he'd be sure to tease them mercilessly, the absolute terror that he was, making him and Hermione go red as a consequence. "The other side."
She finally wiped it off and then thanked him.
"So, Harry, shall we go back to the flat?" He smiled and nodded, gesturing for the server to bring them their check.
…
Minutes later Harry felt himself yawn as he and Hermione reentered Fabian's flat.
"I'm stuffed! Do you mind if I go in the guestroom first and take a shower in the bathroom?" Hermione asked him as she unsuccessfully stifled a yawn as well. Earlier, he'd agreed on staying for the rest of the night. They stood outside one of the rooms on the second floor.
"I don't. I could just sit in the living room or wait outside..." He answered.
"Thank you." She sleepily smiled. "Don't wander into any room. This place is a menagerie of death!" She earned, entering the guest room.
"Oh! You're already here!" Fabian had suddenly appeared later on the second floor landing as Harry curiously looked around the decor and framed photographs. "Where's bun-bun?"
"Err, she's taking a shower."
"Really? How come you're not joining her?" Fabian waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Harry felt his face heat up a bit as he carefully tried not to imagine a naked woman in the shower, especially that naked woman. He shook his head. Hermione's cousin looked at him closely.
"Hmm...I could see why my dear cousin would be so into you… Blimey, your eyes are so green I–"
"FABIAN!" A shriek interrupted him. Both Harry and Fabian turned their heads to the guest room door, which had just opened to show Hermione dressed up for bed, her hair a bit damp, and her face of both mortification and vexation. "YOUR BLOODY SNAKE IS AT IT AGAIN!" She screamed at her cousin.
"Oh! I was in fact looking for Sylvie! I was wondering where'd she gone after she had her dinner..." Fabian replied nonchalantly.
"You have a snake called Sylvie?" Harry asked.
"A boa constrictor, to be specific."
"Stop letting your dangerous pets out! That thing could kill anyone! It could've strangled me in the room!" She continued.
"That thing is a she, and no she wouldn't kill you, Bunny."
"Well, she might as well have. I could've gotten a heart attack from her suddenly appearing, hanging in the bloody closet!"
"Bunny darling, you wouldn't get a heart attack if you ate well and exercised…" Fabian chastised, not looking one bit fazed by his cousin's near-meltdown.
Harry sneaked himself inside the guest room, leaving the quarreling cousins be. It was time to put one of his 'talents' to use and to be honest he'd grown tired of seeing Hermione constantly check for the snake beneath every cushion and surface, always on edge and watching things from the corner of her eyes. All this paranoia needed to come to an end, and Merlin hex him if he wouldn't be the one to fix things so that he could get a moment of peace and rest in this bloody city.
"Sylvie?" He spoke in Parseltongue, hoping to rush this so that the cousins didn't catch him hissing like a mad man.
"Who are you? You can talk to me?" Sylvie sounded a bit different from the snakes he'd met. Harry never would have guessed that a snake could have a Parisian accent.
"I'm Harry and yes I can." He could see the large snake hanging next to some clothes in the open wardrobe.
"Magnifique! I've never met a human being who could talk to me!" She hissed.
"Err, yeah...keep that a secret, alright?"
"As if I can tell Fabian I could speak to you!" Harry thought he could see her do a snake equivalent of eye-rolling.
"Anyway, why were you in Hermione's closet?"
"It's a very comfortable place to lounge around after a dinner of four mice." She slithered out of the closet, circling around Harry's ankles.
"Okay…? Do you always love bothering her?"
"Hermione? Yes!"
"Why?"
"Because Fabian loves to tease her and I love doing that as well! She's so funny when she's mad!" Sylvie curled around his shoulders, the snake was 'face to face' with him.
"Do you think you could tone that down a bit?"
"Maybe. Why do you care so much?"
"Because–"
"Oh my god! It's attacking Harry!" The door had burst open, slamming against the dramatically wallpapered wall. "Get Sylvie away from him, Fabian!" Hermione pushed her cousin who almost came stumbling towards Harry. Fabian only laughed.
"Oh don't you see, bun-bun? Sylvie's just getting acquainted with Mr. Green Eyes here. She seems to really like him. Come here, mon coeur." he finally said, with a tone of voice one would normally reserve for babies or puppies.
"It was nice talking to you, Harry. Until next time…" She uncurled herself from him and then towards her owner.
"Bloody hell! Are you hurt? Where's the puncture? I'm not sure if I know how to take the venom out! I'm going to kill Fabian if you end up dead before him!" She immediately began to fuss all over Harry, which elicited a hearty laugh from him, one that made the corners of his eyes crinkle and sounded indecently delicious to Hermione's ears.
"They're called Boa CONSTRICTORS, bunny, they don't have venom!" Fabian announced from the hall.
"You're ridiculous, Fabian!" She shouted back then looked at Harry who now sat on the bed, still laughing. "What?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. Just amused that I got to confirm my theory… You are indeed crazy and paranoid, Moneypenny." Hermione's response was to huff and roll her eyes.
"Whatever, Harry. Now get off, I'm sleeping on the bed." She tried to push him away, but he wouldn't budge.
"I thought you wanted to sleep with me..." He patted the space on the bed, grinning like the bloody bastard he was.
"Ha! In your dreams, Harry Potter." She rolled her eyes then successfully pushed him off with extreme force.
"Where am I supposed to stay?"
"You have two options, either the day bed next to Sylvie's abode or on a mattress on the floor. Actually, I think my cousin wouldn't oppose to your company in his bed either, so three options, really..." Harry rolled his eyes at her tasteless teasing.
"A mattress is fine as long as you don't snore."
"Don't be silly, Harry. Proper ladies don't snore!" A few hours later Harry Potter found out that yes, ladies did snore and Hermione Granger was one of them… But he didn't mind it at all.
…
"Harry?" He heard her voice, just above a whisper resonated throughout the guest room.
It was hard for him to focus at first, what with the bedroom's wallpaper being covered in a whimsical showpiece of perroquet, butterflies, and tropical flowers in sweet pastel colors on a midnight-blue background. Warm light from the halogen bulb of a giraffe-shaped floor lamp highlighted it in the dark and Harry could see a bit of Hermione's shadow on one side of the wall. Every room in this house seemed to be animal-themed and scream 'exotic'... There was no way one could take Fabian Bell for anything but an animal lover. Harry was amused at the memory of meeting Hermione's cousin hours ago and hearing a bit of their beguiling family history. It gave him that slight pang of want. He only wished that he could have that… A family, history, love and such wonderful memories, to be able to know and share histories. A part of him deeply envied them.
"Harry, are you awake?" She had rolled herself to the edge of the canopy bed, looking earnestly down at him. He squinted, his glasses were being rested somewhere but he could still see her for the light brightened on her face. He was lying down on a floor mattress next to the bed.
"I'm awake." He answered, reaching for his glasses and slipping them on.
"I didn't wake you?" She whispered.
"You didn't." It was a little white lie, but he felt rested enough. He wasn't used to full nights of sleep anyway, probably never had been what with being plagued with nightmares for so long and now with his hectic line of work and constantly switching time zones.
"I couldn't sleep any longer… I don't know why. Anxiety maybe?" She rolled back to the middle of the bed, staring at the ceiling.
"Maybe..." Harry sat up and looked at the parrot-shaped wall clock. "It's nearly four in the morning..."
"I have an idea." She said. "What time is your flight?"
"Um… six hours from now." He calculated the time before answering. "Leaving from de Gaulle airport."
"Do you want to go for a walk with me?" He couldn't help but smile at the childlike hope in the way Hermione asked, she simply couldn't hide the insecure and mostly lonely little girl she once was.
"Actually, I'd love to, Moneypenny."
They didn't even bother with proper clothes, slipping out in their flannel and cotton pajamas, throwing coats and scarves on, tiptoeing out as to avoid waking Fabian. The streets of the 10th Arrondissement were quiet and empty, the only lights being from the antiquated lamp posts along the sidewalk. Harry buried his hands in his coat pockets and let the cold December air hit his cheeks, fully awaking him.
Paris was undeniably beautiful having a charm that even his beloved streets of London couldn't compare to. He recalled a bit of information he'd read or seen somewhere on muggle television where even Hitler, perhaps one of the cruelest men in history, when arriving in Paris was so in awe and mesmerized that he had entire quartiers closed off and evacuated of people so that he could wander the streets in peace, taking in all of the beauty and the magic that was this city.
"What are you thinking about?" Hermione asked him, watching his expression with curiosity. His green eyes shone even in the darkness of the night… Mesmerizing, like few things she'd seen in life.
"Hitler, oddly enough." Surprise and confusion were written all over her features as she looked at him quizzically. He chuckled, enjoying the fact that he now actually had someone he could talk to about these things.
"Why?" Was Hermione's single outcry, as she linked her arm with his, surprising them both in an action of pure intimacy. Harry liked it though, a lot, feeling her touch and the warmth of her against him. It was fucking freezing out anyway.
"Because even he, with his heart of stone and all his cruelty and cold-bloodedness, saw the beauty in this city, was amazed by it… Like I am right now. Can you believe this is actually my first time here?" Hermione shook her head, wearing a tender smile.
"I like it when you share your thoughts and feelings… You're always so private."
"I know… I just, I don't know how else to be, really." Harry stared down at his feet, for a second thinking the stone-pavement of the street they walked upon was oh-so-interesting. She playfully nudged him with her elbow.
"Don't worry Harry, all Englishmen are emotionally stunted in one way or another… My saving grace is that I have quite a bit of French blood in me, and partly grew up here."
"And you talk a mile a minute." She smiled in spite of herself.
When Harry looked up again he realized they'd already walked down the two blocks to the lovely Canal Saint-Martin, a peaceful and lovely tree-lined affluent of the river Seine. It was all theirs at this point. It was so simple, so utterly quaint that Harry felt a warmth take over him. Perhaps he wouldn't feel this way if Hermione Granger weren't here on his arm.
"This is my favorite street in all of Paris… My granny lived not too far, I can see why my cousin chose to live nearby." Harry nodded.
"Must be a sight during the day, in the springtime…" He took in the view of the little bridge crossing and Hermione smiled, nodding. She pulled at his hand and soon, they were in the middle of the bridge and he watched as she passed through the railings and stood leaning back on them, on the very edge. One tiny push and she'd fall into the bone-cold water, still flowing despite the temperature.
"When I was little I used to come here… I used to spend hours throwing little stones into the water, the flat ones of course, watching them skip across the surface of the water… One, two, three times... My all-time record was five. Sometimes I simply liked to sit and watch the little circles forming. It soothed me."
"When I was a little boy I ran… I had to be the fastest or my cousin Dudley and the neighborhood bullies would catch me, beat me up. I had no friends. But one day I ran so far that I reached a park I had never been to. There was a tree there, I don't know what kind, but there was a hollow at the base of her trunk, rather hidden because of its thick roots and I hid there. It was so quiet, so peaceful. I fit inside perfectly, I was much smaller than the boys my age, very skinny. It was the only place I had peace… Sometimes I'd sit there talking to myself, making up stories. Other days I would cry because things sometimes got to being too much. Some other days I'd fall asleep… I started hiding little treasures there. Nothing fancy as I didn't own anything of the sort. A yo-yo I found one day, a red bird-feather, a shiny stone… I had a tiny pocket notebook where I wrote all of the interesting things I'd see," he said this with a sad smile and Hermione was taken aback by the glimmer of tears pooling in his eyes. And then he huffed, taking in a deep breath. "That little hole in the tree was more my home than the one I lived in..."
"Oh, Harry…" she cried out softly, grabbing his hand.
"I never told anyone about this…" He admitted, with a sad smile. "Thank you."
"Oh, pfft, what for?"
"For being you… for letting me, I don't know, talk about things. You're not superficial, Hermione Granger, you care and I like that about you." She was quite at a loss for words after that one.
Both of them continued to walk around the Canal Saint-Martin, not really feeling the need to speak much, each one comfortably lost in their thoughts and also in the moment. They later sat side by side on one of those wooden benches by the river bank. It was still dark. They held onto their coats, the temperature dropping. Harry had actually muttered a slight warming charm.
"I didn't think this through. I'm sorry." She commented, seeing his bare hands and taking them into her gloved ones, rubbing them for heat. "Perhaps we could look for a 24-hour café..." She suggested.
"It's fine, actually. I like it over here. It's quiet and peaceful for once. It's very serene without the tourists." He looked beyond the river, then at her and what she was doing, their hands still entwined. He wasn't affected by the cold but liked this gesture from her and didn't want to complain, wouldn't dare to. It felt nice.
She smiled then, but he noticed it wasn't the carefree smiles he remembered from their time in Vienna.
"Hermione, I've been meaning to ask... Back at the bookshop, you didn't look too alright to me." Harry figured this was the best time to bring it up, he couldn't shake the worry from seeing so much sadness in her eyes, even if she tried so well to hide it. Hermione seemed to have frozen a bit upon hearing his observation and she couldn't help but look away. She then let go of his hands and tucked a stray string of curls behind her ear. "I'm sorry if I'm being intrusive." He quickly added.
His comment was met with a long moment of slightly tense silence until she sighed deeply.
"It's fine, Harry." She was still looking away. "It's just that I'm going to have a shitty Christmas this year..." She scoffed, rolling her eyes at herself. "You'd think there would be much more terrible things in the universe to worry about than this, I feel stupid honestly…"
"You mean because you'll be spending it with Fabian? He's not half as bad as you make him out to be, you know." She looked at him and made a face.
"His crowd isn't my type of crowd and the only reason I'm in this predicament is because of my parents." She sighed. "You know how I mentioned that they're living in Menorca?" He nodded, recalling one of their conversations back in Vienna. The nudist parents, yes. "Well, the three of us agreed that I'd be going to Spain after my book event here to spend Christmas with them but apparently I'm that easily forgettable because they'd made plans with their friends to bloody Thailand! I'm their only child! To think I had to beg my agent and his secretary to make sure nothing would be holding me up during the days leading to Christmas! And now it's all for nothing. I'll probably spend the next few days raiding Fabian's wine shelf and not even Sylvie will be able to stop me." She gave another sigh. How someone could look so absolutely adorable while so angry came as a mystery to Harry, but he adored her pouty lips and her furrowed eyebrows… The blazing fire in her eyes.
Harry frowned for a bit, suddenly remembering the fact that he wasn't invited to the annual Weasley family Christmas feast anymore. He'd learned firsthand how lonely it was to spend special occasions alone. This year, in particular, he'd gotten closer to the Weasley's, but being there when Ginny was bringing her new boyfriend for the first time was perhaps too much.
"I don't think you're easily forgettable, Hermione." He suddenly felt an urge to bring her closer to him, and he did, pulling her closer with one arm. "You know, last year in Vienna, I admit, was one of the most fun things I've experienced in a long time..."
"You left immediately after though..." She cut in.
"I know I did, but it doesn't mean I wanted to. My work..." He trailed off, needing to say no more, not being able to either.
"You could've left your mobile or email." She plainly said.
"Yeah, I could have, but what would we have done? Met up again? And after that?" He sighed, caressing her arm soothingly over her red wool coat, not noticing just how intimate a thing it was. "Over the past few months I thought what happened between us was just what it was, you know? And I reckoned it was better than nothing. Who would've guessed we'd meet again? I dare say it was an odd twist of fate that I saw your name in the newspaper yesterday morning and that we were both in Paris at the same time." He said.
"I thought you'd search for me. I tried to look you up but there were so many Harry Potters and Henry's too that would appear in the search results that I honestly began to wonder whether Harry Potter was your actual name! And then I was working on the final chapters of my book and thought I'd try to reach out to you subtly. I was hoping you'd see my name on the book and you'd read the dedication..." She recounted.
"And I did, well, at the bookshop…" He nudged her and she chuckled. "Weren't for that newspaper thing I'd still be in my hotel room right now, waiting for my alarm to ring and then on to the next destination. Vienna seemed like such a long time ago..." He said amusingly. "Doesn't mean it wasn't meaningful, though." Hermione grew silent.
"What are you doing for Christmas?" After a beat, she asked.
"Well, I'll be in South America for work." He answered.
"Oh," Was what she only said next.
"Oh? What does 'oh' mean?" He asked, sensing a follow-up.
"It's nothing." Harry scoffed at her response, knowing very well that there was always something to her words.
"Come on, Moneypenny, just tell me." He insisted.
"Well, I was going to ask you if you wanted a sort of Vienna 2.0. You know, the two of us hanging out on Christmas Eve and beyond. Maybe not exactly here and obviously not with Fabian and his peculiar friends. Maybe somewhere else… I've been meaning to visit a place… It's a bit of a long drive but not that much, doable really. It's an island, but when the tide goes down it isn't anymore, and oh, Harry, it looks so beautiful… I think you would like it… Do I sound mental? The idea's bloody ridiculous and of course you've made plans with your friends… Forget about it…" She was rambling, not catching his gaze, and nervously biting her lower lip again. Harry frowned.
"Well, I wish I could do that with you. I would rather do that than spend my entire Christmas holiday doing work-related things but…" He trailed off in sincere lamentation. And then he looked at her, his eyes widening as an idea formed in his head. Hermione raised an eyebrow in interest. "Maybe I could prepare something for you and Fabian... Perhaps a Christmas Eve breakfast or brunch? If your cousin doesn't mind of course." Hermione's face lit up.
"I didn't know you could cook…" Harry shrugged and set a smug grin on his face.
"Oh, dear and famous Miss Granger, I have many a trick up my sleeve… I'm practically a magician." His voice was playful and goofy, his emerald-green eyes shining. She scoffed and laughed at his words and Harry once again thought to himself 'if only she knew'. "So, what are your thoughts on French toast, bacon and eggs, freshly ground coffee?"
"Hmm, splendid… It's a date then, James." Harry smiled, overtaken by an almost overwhelming feeling of affection towards her.
"It's a date, Moneypenny." Harry echoed, etching that beautiful look of pure delight on her face into his brain.
…
To say Hermione Granger was a disaster in the kitchen was an understatement, but Harry wouldn't have his sous-chef in any other way. He watched her as she painstakingly ground the black pepper over the scrambled-eggs and bacon sizzling in the pan.
"Careful not to put too much or you won't be able to taste the actual eggs." He warned, nudging her side gently. He heard her huff and though he couldn't see her expression he knew she'd rolled her eyes at him.
Fabian was still in his bedroom, passed out on the bed as he wasn't known to wake up before 9 am ever in his life. Nor Hermione or Harry were complaining about this little fact, as they tried to enjoy every little minute together before he was set to leave for Guiana. Hermione gathered the cutlery and set a small vase of assorted blooms at the center of the dining table while Harry did the honors of serving each of their plates with eggs and bacon, the French toast looking most delectable as it waited for them to do the honors.
"Don't you think it rather odd?" She began, after taking a long sip of her Earl Grey tea like any decent British woman.
"What's odd?" He asked, delighting in his eggs. It was rare that he got a chance to put his culinary talents to work and he took quite a bit of joy in it.
"How this is the second Christmas Eve in a row that we spend together, and it wasn't at all planned…" Hermione took a bite of the sweet and cinnamon-flavored French toast. "I wonder, could we somehow make it happen again next year?" Harry smiled at her proposition but paused to think for a moment. He finished his cuppa and ceremoniously wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. He saw the anxiety in her eyes and decided to finally blurt out what he'd been wishing for since the moment he saw her at the bookstore, hell, since way before even.
"Actually, I was planning on asking you your plans for next year… I'd very much love to see you again." There was a slight tinge of pink on his cheeks and Hermione couldn't help but beam.
"Shall we make a tradition of it, then, James Bond?"
"Only if you agree, Moneypenny." Hermione leaped out of her chair and nearly knocked both of them over as she wrapped her arms around him in the tightest and warmest and most tender hug since last Easter at the Burrow when Molly Weasley hugged him… But of course Molly was Molly and Hermione, she was entirely something else.
…
"Oh no," Hermione said as she realized what time it is. "You're going to miss your flight!" She looked at Harry who was languidly enjoying his cup of coffee.
He only shrugged. "I can always go on the next flight." He was having such a great time with her, he didn't even want to leave for South America anymore. If he could skip the mission, he would, but Peder would have his head if he didn't show up.
She bit her lip. "Are you sure? It's all my fault! I shouldn't have held you up!"
"It's fine, Hermione. I love that I get to do this to be honest. I'm going to be stuck with Peder for the rest of the week, it's going to be boring and I'll be having this day to think of fondly. I'd rather hang out with Fabian and his creatures than be with that droll." He assured her.
She nodded."Who's Peder?"
"Just someone I work with from time to time." He replied.
"Ooh! Like Felix Leiter!" She chattered.
"I don't know what you mean or who that is." He amusingly claimed. Hermione's eyes were all shine.
"Anyway, Mr. Secret Agent, if you don't mind, I'd like to drop you off at the airport..." She stated in that haughty way of hers.
"That's a brilliant idea actually. And would you stop with this James Bond, Secret Agent nonsense?" He smiled at her and she smiled back in that Cheshire cat way.
"We could leave in a bit so that you can still check out the ticketing office for the next flight."
"Next flight to where?" Fabian arrived wearing his monogrammed burgundy paisley silk dressing gown, his hair still perfectly coiffed even from sleep.
"Ugh! How is your hair still perfect!" Hermione commented with utter frustration.
"Perfect genes, bunny. And bonjour to you too." He did a flamboyant turn. "Now who's going where?"
"Harry's missed his flight to French Guiana and we're planning to leave in a bit so that he can get another ticket." She rolled her eyes at her cousin.
"And here I thought you were going to stay with us for Christmas, Green Eyes. My calendar is filled with invites and I was going to show you off to my friends." Fabian sat next to Harry then wrinkled his nose when he saw the plate of bacon on the table. "Mr. Potter! How dare you!"
"Not everyone's like you, Fabian." She rolled her eyes again.
"Watch out, dear, your eyes might finally pop out." He replied. "Well, I guess I'll be stuck with Hermione Jean 'life of the party, not' Granger."
"Hey! I'll be stuck with you too and your odd crowd!" Hermione protested.
"You're the only one who's odd, bun-bun." He scoffed.
Harry looked at her and said, "Your middle name is Jean?"
"Yes, it is, after my dad's mum… I think it's about time I take you to the airport." Her attention was now on Harry, completely ignoring Fabian who just now decided to put the plate of bacon away.
"Interesting and yes, we should." He faced Fabian who returned to his seat and was now eating some vegan breakfast bar he had gotten from one of his cupboards. "Thanks for your hospitality. It's been, er, interesting."
"Oh, it's nothing. She's never brought anyone to meet the family. You'd think uncle and auntie had sent her to a convent in Nepal. I was considering getting her a gigolo on her next birthday just so that she could get some. But I guess I now have money for my Bali trip next year." He winked at his cousin who had now gone red.
"Fabian!" She glared. "I hate you! And you know nothing of my sex life!"
"I know as much and I know you love me, bun-bun. I know I'm your favorite cousin."
"You're my only cousin!"
During the whole exchange, Harry had only observed them with amusement.
"I think we really have to go now." She finally said, looking away from her cousin.
"Harry, if ever you get bored with Miss Bossy Bushy Bookworm or the entire opposite sex, call me if you want to have some fun. If you know what I mean." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"I'll keep that in mind!" Was Harry's response as he let Hermione drag him away.
"You shouldn't let Fabian get under your skin, Hermione Jean." Harry spoke when they've exited Fabian's flat.
"I know, I know… Hey! I don't know what your middle name is! It's only fair that you tell since you already know mine." She trudged towards the pavement.
Harry laughed softly. "I think you'll be delighted by my middle name."
"Oh?" She did her signature eyebrow raise.
"It's James!"
"Shut up! You're kidding!"
"I'm not. It was my father's name."
"Oh, that's brilliant! Harry James..."
…
"So, I guess this is where I leave..." Harry held onto the straps of his navy weekender bag that was slung over his right shoulder. The airport speakers just announced that his flight was boarding.
"This was good, seeing you again, after a year. It's amazing, isn't it, how out of all the cities in the world we found each other here, at the same time, you know?" She smiled but it felt a bit bittersweet.
"Our plan for next year is still on?" He asked, hoping to erase that almost sad look on her face.
"Of course! And you must give me your mobile number." She took out her mobile phone from her purse.
Harry shook his head. "Um, well, I don't really have a mobile number. I change numbers a lot."
"Harry, you just basically confirmed you're a secret agent. Nobody else would change their numbers regularly unless they're famous celebrities!" She put her mobile back inside. "So how do we even communicate? By email?"
Harry didn't really know how he could explain to her that he didn't really use muggle technology, all that much. Sure, there was the occasional phone, messaging or computer business at work, but in his personal life? He still preferred sending messages via owl. "How about the post?" Hermione looked at him in bewilderment.
"You mean write letters?"
"Yes. It's dying but it's still a thing, you know..." He nodded.
"In this day and age?" She was still a bit dumbfounded at the prospect.
"Well, I guess there's only one way to keep it alive, then." She smiled brightly and he smiled back at her quite pleased with their arrangement. "You're turning out quite interesting, Harry Potter." She said playfully as she opened her purse again and took out a red pocket-sized Moleskine notebook and black sign pen. She tore a page and started writing. It took her quite a bit before she handed the folded pieces of paper to him. "Here. Don't open that until you're in the plane."
Harry nodded and placed the folded papers inside the front pocket of his coat and then looked at her curiously "Alright, famous author, give me your notebook, I'll write down my address."
"You better make sure it's your real address, James. Wait a minute, how are you going to receive my letters if you're always traveling and doing your special agent business?" She handed the notebook and pen to him, her brows furrowed.
"A friend of mine checks my post for me and forwards them." Was what he only answered as he concentrated on writing. After a while, he closed the notebook and handed it to her. "I should ask you the same question as well."
"What?"
"How are you going to receive my letters when you'll be traveling for your documentary as well?"
"I've written my agent's address in there as well. His secretary does the forwarding too."
"Splendid."
"Yeah."
They stood there facing each other for a long silence-filled moment. Suddenly things had become a slight bit awkward between them, and neither of them knew what to say. Another announcement about Harry's flight sounded.
"I really have to go, Hermione." Hermione saw a sadness in his green eyes that hadn't been there before. He was genuine, about everything, she had an inkling he would indeed write to her. Goodness, how she hoped he did.
"I know, Harry."
"Honestly, I don't really want to. I think I would've preferred being shown off to Fabian's friends, and obviously see more of Paris with you."
"I know...I know…" She laughed at his remark on Fabian, but then sobered up. She bit her lower lip again. "This isn't goodbye? Like a permanent goodbye, like last year in Vienna."
"Well, you're not passed out drunk and I have your address. We have plans, remember?" He patted the front pocket. "I promise you I'll definitely see you again."
"Good. And you know Harry, Paris won't be going anywhere anytime soon. I'd love to show you around more some other time." She felt her lips beginning to tremble, feeling emotional with his departure. Still, Hermione didn't want him to see her like this, she didn't want him to get the wrong idea. She couldn't keep herself from embracing him though, clinging to him for dear life, just for a moment. It took him a few seconds, but he held on to her just as tight. As they began to part she whispered in his ear: "Au revoir, James."
"Au revoir, Moneypenny."
…
Before Hermione left the airport, she stopped by the café for a cup of hot latte. While waiting for her order, she decided to open her notebook to the very page where Harry had written his address. There was a little surprise for her on the page. It brought a smile to her face, because she knew she'd carry it all through the holiday.
Hermione Jean,
You have saved my Christmas twice now. Who would've thought that after Vienna, I'd see you again?
I want to thank you for the very little time we've spent together in Paris. Thank you for making me feel welcomed at Fabian's, for the glimpses of your family. I will always treasure it.
I hope your Christmas will be better than what you expected. You're brilliant, Hermione, absolutely brilliant (don't let this get to your head!), I'll be keeping you and those Portuguese pastries in my thoughts.
Can't wait to see you again next year. Don't hesitate to keep in touch.
Wishing you a Happy Christmas!
Harry Potter
Around the same time, seated in an Airbus departing to Cayenne in French Guyana was Harry. He looked out to the airport runway and sighed deeply. He loved his job, but sometimes he hated it. He took out the folded pieces of paper Hermione had given him from his coat pocket. A smile appeared on his face as well as he realized they both had the same idea. He made sure to reread it twice then non-verbally charmed it so that he'd never lose it. Merlin, how he missed her already.
Dear Harry James,
I've met so many strangers in my life but none of them made such a lingering impact as you. I'm very thankful for that rainy day in Vienna and for that packed café. Sharing a table with you was one of the best decisions that I've ever made.
I love how we met in Paris again and were given a chance to 'reconnect'. I had nearly accepted a few days ago that our adventure in Vienna was and would always be just a memory with a stranger, so far from real life. And now, still even after a day, I think of you as one of my rare friends. That's not all too assuming right? I feel a certain closeness with you that I really cannot explain. Friendships never really were my forte and I'm not exactly sure how I was able to build one with you.
Harry Potter, you have brightened what could've been my saddest holiday ever.
I'll be looking forward to our letters, which I realise now is great considering no one really writes them anymore. Our naughty little tradition. Your suggestion is brilliant by the way, I wish I'd been the one to think of it. Thank you, really.
I can't wait to have another 'adventure' with you.
Happy Christmas, Harry.
Love,
Hermione Granger.
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