Note: Hello! First I have to say I got some adorable reviews that warmed my heart, so, thank you!
To mention one of them, yes, Harry and Hermione are inevitable and we're getting a happy ending here for sure, don't worry about that, I mean, the story is still in progress.
Now, to quote another - not so nice - review: "Here we fucking go more unnecessary angst."
Hope you like this chapter!
Potter Manor
Wine Cellar
The wine cellar is a little further away from the house, and like most cellars, it's underground. The door is the only thing above ground and it's open so she walks inside. Descending a few steps, she enters the place which is beautiful, bright and big. The wood is light, bringing her some kind of peace and a sense of calmness. There must be at least 2,000 wines in there and the place is chilly. But Harry is nowhere to be seen. "Harry?" She calls. Not minding the lack of response, she walks around looking at the bottles, running her fingers through them. He must drink one every night with Cho. She stops the thought and calls to him again. Nothing. "This is bullshit." She heads to the door, but then Harry is shoved inside, tripping on the steps and falling on the floor with a thud. The door closes behind him with a bang and he gets up fast, smashing his fist against it.
"Come on, open it!"
Hermione just watches.
"No. You have four hours inside till the spell is gone." It's Ron's voice. Hermione rolls her eyes.
"Cho will look for me, there's no way this will-" Harry begins.
"She won't even notice you're gone. She's fast asleep upstairs."
"You hexed her?" Harry is appalled and Hermione holds a laugh.
"Of course not, she just drank too much." It's Draco's voice now.
Harry slams the door again and she stops him, holding his arm and getting him away from the door, taking his place. "Guys, come on, you know we can get out of here with a simple spell, just spare us the effort. I'm tired and I wanna sleep."
"Sorry, Hermione," It's Ginny now, "There's a powerful spell casted by all of us around the cellar, and no matter how powerful you are, we are pretty sure you won't be able to perform magic inside, so I guess you're trapped there for a while."
Hermione clicks her tongue, annoyed. She tries performing an Alohomorra but nothing happens. "What's the purpose of this?" She glances at Harry. His eyes are glued on her.
"A chance to talk, maybe?" Luna says.
"Are you all involved in this nonsense? Harry and I have nothing to talk about!" She yells a little, losing her temper. "Let us out!" The prospect of being trapped with him for four hours frightening her.
"Sorry, won't do!" Ron says.
Hermione pinches the bridge of her nose. "I swear… I'm murdering the person who planned this."
To her surprise, they laugh. "Well, that's actually the best part of it. It was Laura and Lily's idea." Harry and Hermione's mouths hang open. "It's 11pm now, at 3am the door will open on its own. Bye!"
Hermione slams her hand on the door, swearing. Harry has his arms crossed. "Well, your friends are just great." She ignores him and walks around the place.
"Is there another way out? Or can't you kick the door open or something?" She gestures and Harry sighs.
"There's no other way out."
He gets closer to the door and tries kicking under the knob. The door shakes a little, but it doesn't budge. He keeps trying and Hermione yawns. "Let it," She yawns again, "go, Harry." She sits on the floor, leaning against the wall and extending her legs in front of her. She shivers. It's very cold. She blames herself for not bringing her coat. "Laura said you wanted to talk to me here." She snorts.
Harry sighs. "Luna asked for some wine and the moment I got closer they shoved me in."
Hermione nods, both hands rubbing her belly, her head against the wall. "I need to sleep." She closes her eyes and there's peace around her, silence. Even after everything, she feels relaxed, she feels… good in Harry's presence. And not wanting to think about what he's doing or even why their daughters felt the need to trap them in a cellar, she drifts to a nice sleep.
"Merlin, you're freezing." She wakes with a shirtless Harry in front of her, he's rubbing her arms, his shirt covering her shoulders. And she is indeed freezing, her whole body shivering. He tries embracing her, but she stops him. "We don't have time for this, it's dangerous, you can get hypothermia." He tries again but she shakes her head, trying to get up. "Stop, please. Let me do this." His eyes are serious, and so damn beautiful. He looks so much like her Harry, so, she lets him take her in his arms. Harry sits by her side and brings her closer to him, on his lap. She tucks her legs and buries her face on the crook of his neck. He keeps rubbing his hands all over her, trying to heat her up. She embraces herself, inhaling his scent, drowning in him while she feels herself slipping a little out of consciousness. "Don't sleep. Talk to me."
"I-" She tries focusing on a subject, but it would be so easy to just close her eyes and drift away, be taken by the darkness.
"Hermione!"
She hears him but she doesn't find an answer in her, it's cold and difficult to concentrate, but at least Harry is there, holding her. He never stops his efforts to heat her up and after a while she starts feeling a little warmer, her body finally aware that she's on Harry's lap, that her face is pressed against his neck, that he's shirtless and she can feel all his muscles perfectly. "It was a great party." It's the only thing that comes to her mind.
"Thanks. You think they liked it?"
"I'm sure they loved it."
She really is and she's thankful for that, however, an awkward silence falls between them. "You should put on the shirt." He says and she lifts her head, looking into his eyes, his breath is pure alcohol, but he doesn't look drunk at all.
"I'm feeling a little better, I don't think-"
"Do it." He cuts her, his voice leaving no room for debate and she swallows dry, her arms acting on their own and donning on the shirt. He begins buttoning it up, his fingers trembling a little.
"How long have I slept?" He has a wrist watch.
"A little more than an hour."
She sighs. "Three more to go." He nods, his eyes on her chest and his finger touching her sternum lightly, the motion like a electric wire going directly to her clit. She purses her lips.
"Where's the scar?" He asks.
"I hid it with a charm." He pulls his hand back to the buttons, nodding.
"Tell me how you got it."
She watches him closely, pondering if she should. They never got a chance to talk about it, but does he really care or is he only asking to use it against her later? She doesn't know exactly what happened for her to get the scar, but it must be related to their connection, and she can't help thinking what Marga would do with this information… However, he seemed truly worried just now. Maybe he still cares a little… maybe. And there's nothing for them to do but talk… well- don't go there.
"I got it the day you almost died… when you were trying to track the engagement ring." She yawns. "I'm so tired."
Harry finally closes the last button and stops. He seems to be in doubt. "Are you feeling better?"
"Yes, I-" She tries getting up, desperate to put distance between them.
"If you get up you're going to freeze again. You need human warmth." He's holding her wrist, stopping her.
"I don't think it's a good idea, Harry." She whispers, stating the obvious and he lifts an eyebrow.
"Why? You think I can't resist you, Hermione?" His eyes change a little, turning a bit colder. "Or is it you who can't?" She snorts, but she doesn't move, showing him she can resist, of course she can. He narrows his eyes. "How's the pregnancy going?"
"Fine." She yawns.
"I remember a day, when you were pregnant with the girls, that you slept sixteen hours straight." Hermione chuckles and Harry follows. "What's up with that? Do you feel drained or something?"
"I can't explain, it's stronger than me. I just need to rest."
He lowers his eyes to her belly, "Do you know if…"
"It's a boy."
She can see him stopping himself from smiling. He thinks it's Jack's son. She opens her mouth to tell him he's the father, but he changes the subject and Hermione's courage slips through her fingers.
"I never-" He gulps, "I never got the chance to thank you… for saving my life." He shrugs, "I mean, I don't have any idea why you did it, but thanks anyway."
"You have no idea why I did it, Harry? Really?" Because I love you, I love you so damn much.
He shakes his head, "You manipulated me for years, Hermione. I guess it was just another kind of manipulation, right? To keep me in debt with you."
If she wasn't so tired she would be furious. How can he think something like that? But she keeps her mouth shut. Did he save me from hypothermia because he thinks he's in debt with me? The thought saddens her.
A silence falls between them, dense and heavy, just as the air around them. She's on his lap, but they're not touching each other, she has her hands on her belly and his are together on his own stomach. But their faces are close and she tries looking anywhere but him. Suddenly, the wall behind him is very interesting and she lets her eyes follow the intrinsic cracks on it. Only a while later she notices he has his eyes closed, and she lets herself observe him. All of him. She sighs. It's unfair how perfect he is, how strong and handsome. His whole torso is pure muscle and his hands… his hands. She absolutely loves his hands, they're big and strong, his fingers are long but not thin… they're just right. She bites on her lower lip and closes her own eyes, shivering a little, but not from the coldness.
"Are you cold again?" He asks, opening those green emerald eyes that break her heart.
"A little." She lies.
He opens his arms and gestures for her to lean into him. She hesitates. "Afraid you can't resist me?" He provokes her. She raises an eyebrow and gives in, her face back on the crook of his neck, his arms around her, embracing her tightly. He's so warm. She sighs and watches as all the hair on his chest raise a little, his nipples hardening, so, he feels it too. But he's doing his best to control himself, she knows.
"Tell me what happened in Azkaban." She demands. She wants to know, she needs to know. He doesn't say a word. "Please, Harry."
"I'm not sure I know what to tell." His voice is thin.
"What do you mean?"
He sighs. "It was brutal and I was unconscious half the time." He shakes his head, "I saw Umbridge there." Hermione stiffens. Of course, she got a life sentence to die in Azkaban. "She has a domesticated Dementor." Hermione lifts her head to look at him, her hands on his chest. "Yes." He confirms.
"Dementors are banned, that's not possible!"
"But it is, there were hundreds of them when I was escaping."
"Shit. I need to go there, I need to see what's going on, I can't let this-"
"Don't you dare." He's angry. "Don't step a foot inside that place, Hermione. Send someone else."
"Harry, it's obvious I can't trust others to do my job." He lowers his eyes. "What else happened there?"
"I think it's better if I just show you." She tilts her head.
"How?"
And then she feels him opening up a little more on their connection, their magic frenetic with this sudden development. His feelings invading her, and a few of his memories: him on a minuscule cell, starvation, pain, despair, humiliation, Umbridge, the Dementors, coldness, then Cho rescuing him, the thrill of inflicting pain on the Auror, his delight in using magic. The only thing shining bright Laura and Lily. And it stops, but his emotions are there for her: hate, loneliness, abandon, contempt. Her hand goes to his cheek. "Harry…" She wants to kiss away every terrible moment he had inside that place, she wants to hold him for days. He doesn't move, his eyes cold, vitrified. "I waited for you." He says. "But you never came."
She doesn't know what to say. He knows she was in a coma, he knows there was nothing she could have done. She holds her tears and settles herself back on the crook of his neck, her hand traveling his chest, making circles above his heart. He squeezes her a little tighter. "I'm sorry." She finally says. Maybe he doesn't believe her, maybe he does, but if she wasn't in that hospital bed she would've been the first to invade that forsaken prison to get him out. She would risk everything for him.
The silence that follows lets her marvel on the bit of the connection he opened, she can't tell exactly what he thinks, or feels, but his main emotion is there: sadness. She kisses the side of his neck, a reassuring peck, the most she dares. He turns his head to her and kisses the top of her head, sighing.
"Do you remember your coma?" He finally asks.
"Yes. I could hear people talking inside the room, even if the voices were far away. I think for most of it I didn't even realize I was in a coma. I was just existing there."
"There?"
"Yeah, like a place I created inside my mind. A place I couldn't find the way out."
"I guess we were both trapped in a way."
"I guess…" She whispers, closing her eyes and feeling sleepy again. She snuggles against him and he rearranges himself, making both more comfortable in their embrace. She yawns and he lets out a chuckle. "Don't make fun of me, I'm cultivating a life here." His emotions are all over the place because of her words, she senses his exhilaration, then his anger and sadness. And she opens herself a little to him, soothing him, letting him know there's no reason for him to be sad. She doesn't try to convince him the baby is his, she thinks he won't believe her yet. She's almost asleep when he says, "Are we talking about why Lily and Laura felt the need to trap us here too?"
"Are we talking about the fact that they're already twelve?"
He snorts. "It seems like they were born just yesterday."
"I know, they were so little, and now they're probably thinking about boys." Harry fully stiffens, Hermione feels his dread and she laughs out loud.
"Are you serious?" He asks. "Already?"
"Probably."
He sighs, his hand going up and down her back. "Did you?"
"What?"
"Think about boys when you were twelve? Because at twelve I had no clue at all."
She ponders. Of course she did, she was infatuated with him, he'd just saved her from a troll. That just a few days ago he said he should have let it kill me. She purses her lips. "Maybe." She answers, narrowing her eyes.
His hand stops on her back. "Ron, right?"
She actually lifts her head and frowns at him. "Ron? He was nothing but mean to me back then." She chuckles.
"But he was your first love, wasn't he?" No. You were.
"Yes." It's what she says, not understanding his question. "But at twelve we don't understand love, Harry."
She lies down her head on him again. "I guess we never fully understand love, regardless our age."
"I think I understand it." She whispers.
"You do?"
"Yes."
She feels his heart beating faster. Her hand still drawing patterns on his chest. He clears his throat. "We'll have to talk with them. I know they must want us to be together, but they can't do something like this, they can't force us to love each other." It's like he doesn't feel nothing at all when saying those words.
"Agreed. They need to accept that their parents love them, but we have separated lives." What could she possibly say? Stop this nonsense, Harry, let's get married, we are soul mates? He would laugh at her. But she can't deny that the significant hate she felt from him towards her is… weaker. She prods into his emotions, searching for it, trying to understand him, trying to find out what caused this. What's behind this. Jack said Marga is messing with his mind. If he notices what she's doing he doesn't show, he's as still as possible and quiet. She keeps searching, exploring the little he lets her see and feel. And when she finally thinks she found it, a dark cloud confuses her and shoves her out. It wasn't Harry. It was something else. He tightens his embrace, sad. Hermione looks at him, her hand on his cheek again. He leans into it.
They share a moment of pure understanding. There's something - better yet, someone - manipulating him, steering him away from her every time she shows him the truth. It whispers absurdities inside his head all day long. She touches her forehead on his. He doesn't want to say the words because this 'thing' might listen, so he tries to show her that if they stay away from each other, if they hate each other, everything will be okay. She shakes her head, letting him know she doesn't accept it, showing him her heart, how much she longs for him, for them. His eyes are those same eyes that kissed her for the first time when they were just two young adults trying to find a home, trying to find a safe place to land. The same eyes that made love to her countless times, the same eyes that watched their daughters being born, the same eyes that professed his love over and over again. Her Harry.
She moves on his lap, opening her legs and straddling him now. His hands go under her dress, squeezing her thighs. She traces his face with her fingertips and he closes his eyes, his muscles tensing. She leans into him, kissing him with tenderness. He corresponds immediately. It's overwhelming. Through their connection Hermione can feel his pleasure, she can feel his need for her. He opens himself more in the connection and she does the same, almost knocking them out. They break the kiss, breathing hard, trying to come to terms with this new sensation. It's not just her desire, it's his also, it's their mutual desire flowing through them. She touches his nipple, testing something, and lets out a moan as she feels his own pleasure. Harry grunts, his hand traveling from her thigh to her hair, tugging at it while one of his thumbs gently rubs her clit through her underwear. He shivers and moan with her. She feels electric, she feels wired. It's like there's a magnifying glass over them, each touch a thousand times stronger. They're almost painful. Almost.
She tugs his shirt over her head, tossing it aside, she doesn't need it, they're burning up. Harry leans and kisses her sternum, the simple touch of his lips making her see stars. Her hands hold his head in place and he teasingly spread wet kisses on her, never really getting to her extremely tender breasts and hard nipples. She moves against his hand on her clit and they moan together. His other hand goes to the clasp of the dress on her nape and he opens it easily, the 'straps' of the dress coming down, freeing her breasts. With his mouth half open and his teeth raking through her flesh, he looks at her before taking her nipple in his mouth. "Harry!" She says the moment his tongue swirls around it, but he stops, it's too much for her the same way it is for him. After a few breathes he resumes his kisses and she throws her head back, totally loose, screaming to the ceiling. Harry tries not to scream, but his grunts are getting louder and louder. She tries moving against his hand again but he brings it to her other breast, so she moves against his impossibly hard erection. Now it's his time to call out her name. And to feel herself rubbing against him at the same time she feels how it is for him to feel her moving, it's…
Hermione can feel it coming. Her orgasm. She feels it washing over her in a blinding and glorious wave of pleasure. Harry actually screams with her. And then it's all a blank. They touch their foreheads, their lungs trying to breathe, their minds trying to understand. "I felt your orgasm." Harry says. "As if it were my own." She nods, unable to come up with words. She's eager to feel his orgasm now. Her hands move to his belt, and she takes her time, looking directly into his eyes, her fingers slowly opening it. She can tell he never felt this hard his entire life, it's almost absurd the effort he's making not to come undone immediately. She presses her mouth against his ear, her hands removing the belt, "I want you to come inside me." She feels his erection twitching involuntarily at her words. He grunts and tugs her hair again, bringing her mouth to his, kissing her desperately, but she doesn't stop, she opens his zipper and takes his cock in her hand. Harry lifts his hip a little from the floor, helping her in bringing his pants and underwear to his knees. Their hearts are beating so fast that at the back of her mind she fears they might faint. He presses his mouth on her neck, kissing her. She pumps him once, twice. "Please, Hermione." Then her thumb presses against his tip and Harry bites on her neck, crazy with desire. They don't move for a while and he licks and kisses the spot he bit.
She thinks that her underwear is an inconvenience as Harry hooks his fingers on each side and she needs to contort herself to help him take it off. They kiss sloppily while his fingers enter her and massage her clit, she's on the edge already, wet and throbbing, and Harry, feeling the same, doesn't waste another second, he enters her slowly. They gasp, staring into each other's eyes.
It seems like they're infinite, none really existing without the other. They're just one. One mind, one body, one soul.
And while Harry is taking his time, enjoying the feeling, marveling at it, Hermione feels impatient, so she comes down on him at once and they moan together. She moves a little up and down again, extremely aware of her pleasure and his and knowing it's too much, knowing this won't last long. Harry holds her by the hips, helping her movements and moving a little with her. Hermione wants to kiss him, but they're both trying not to pass out from the absurdity of it. There's nothing but their pleasure, nothing but their encounter, nothing but them.
It's almost unbearable. She digs her nails into his back, his own fingers squeezing her so much she knows it will leave a few bruises. "I can't hold much longer." He says and shifts their position, gently laying her down on the floor. Above her, his hip begins meeting hers faster and harder, both totally losing the little control they still had. Hermione is barely breathing, her heart is pounding and her vision is blurry, she's experiencing a moment of pure and intense pleasure, a desire that is bigger than anything else.
She can tell that he's about to come and she braces herself for the sensation. Harry pulls her closer to him, and says her name when his orgasm hits both of them. Hermione actually feels herself going blind for a moment, their connection expanding, their hearts beating as one and she comes again. It was impossible not to after feeling Harry's pleasure. She's sure the ground around them trembles and they're surrounded by darkness, the cellar's lights going off in unison, a few bottles exploding near them.
For minutes, or hours, or days - Hermione can't tell - they stay put. His arms around her waist, her arms around his neck, their cheeks touching, their bodies united. She's smiling, feeling complete and satisfied. She never felt something like that… she remembers reading a book on transcendence and if she had to guess, she would call this very moment an out of the body experience. Transcendent.
Harry is the first to move, accommodating them into a sitting position again, then he kisses her cheek, his hands caressing her body and she exhales from pure contentment. She runs her hands through his short hair, enjoying the feel of it, while gently kissing his scar. And his eyes, and his nose. Harry chuckles and kisses her, slowly and sensually. When they stop she drowns into his eyes, losing herself in the immensity that is her and Harry. It's a tender moment she's sure she'll never forget.
And then, the cellar's door opens on its own, cracking a little, a chilly wind invading the place. The spell is gone, their four hours over. Harry's expression immediately changes, his eyes hardening, his hands no longer caressing her. He looks down and moves away from her, waving his hand and using a spell to clean both of them. He clears his throat and closes off on his end of their connection and she instinctively does the same, the only thing bonding them together their constant conflicted magic. He doesn't look at her and Hermione feels lost. Harry gets up, waving his hand again to dress himself quickly. "Get dressed and meet me at the house, we need to talk to the girls."
He's about to leave, but she calls him, her voice straining. He stops, not turning to look at her. "Don't leave." All her promises of being different, of keeping him away because it would be easier to deal with this new version of him going out the window, because after what they just shared, she needs to try, she needs to bring him back to her. "I don't know what's going on with you, I have no idea what you're dealing with, but please," Her voice cracks, "Please, come back to me. I love you. I love you so much." Tears are running down her face. "I die inside every time I see you with Chang, every time you look at me coldly, every time I want to hug and kiss you and I have to restrain myself because I don't know if you're going to accept my affection or push me away." He's silent. "Whatever is messing with you, fight it, Harry. For us. Fight it, resist it, destroy it. Please, you're stronger than this thing and I need you, I- I don't know how to go on without you, it's just-" She chokes a little. "It's been unbearable." She's risking everything. "I miss you every single second of every day. You're my better half, Harry. Just come back to me, to us, to our family."
She holds her breath waiting for an answer, but she gets a chuckles instead. And it totally breaks her, shattering her completely inside.
"You're weak, Hermione." She closes her eyes. "Your words mean nothing to me."
And he leaves. Just like that. Without looking back at her, without another word. She feels colder than ever. She was driving him away because it would be easier for her to deal with her own pain, but she had to try. I'm not crazy. He couldn't have faked the way he held her just now, the way he kissed her, made love to her, it was now or never. It didn't work. She bites on her lower lip, trying to stop her crying and still on the floor, she looks at herself, her dress a mess, her panties tossed at the other corner of the cellar, her hair totally disheveled. What have I done? The idea of having sex with him seemed like the perfect one, but now she knows it was a mistake.
He said I'm weak. She takes a deep breath. I don't wanna be weak. She feels something hardening inside her chest, freezing her heart. Harry took something with him when he left her there on the floor. She's not sure what, but a part of her… maybe my weakness, maybe my heart. She brushes her tears away and waves her hand, getting instantly dressed, her hair going back to the way it were. She doesn't forget to hide the bruises he left all over and the mark of the lovebite he gave her. She breathes heavily and exits the wine cellar, heading to the house. She doesn't want to talk to the girls now, they're probably asleep… she wants to take her coat and disappear. But hey, I gotta be strong, right?
As soon as she enters the house she sees Harry sitting on the living area with the girls. They both look ashamed. Hermione sighs and forces herself to sit with them, not glancing at Harry, not being able to look at him, but she settles herself by his side, Lily and Laura in front of them, fiddling with their hands. Hermione can feel their fear through their connection.
"Look, girls," She begins, her voice steady, ready to tell them it's fine, they had the best of intentions but they shouldn't do something like that, but Harry cuts her.
"You're grounded. Very grounded." His tone is harsh. "I thought you understood the situation we're in. Your mother and I have nothing else to do with each other," She purses her lips. "and you both know it. I'm very disappointed that you came up with this idea and involved other adults in this nonsense."
"But, dad-" Lily begins.
"I don't want to hear it! There's no but in this situation, Lily!"
"Harry!" Hermione exclaims and he sighs. "Girls, I know you had the best of intentions-"
"That's not an excuse for-"
"Let me speak to them, Harry." She cuts him, annoyed by his temper. "You can't do something like this, girls. There are things only the adults can understand, things we need to solve on our own, respecting our time. And your uncles and aunts who helped you are also wrong, you haven't done this alone, we know it, okay?" They nod a little. "Us being together or apart will never change the love we share for you." She gently caresses their cheeks. "I understand why you did it, but I hope this never repeats itself. Am I clear?"
"Yes, mum." They mumble in unison. Harry crosses his arms, irritated.
"And as your father said, you're very grounded."
"But, mum, there's something wrong with dad!" Hermione stiffens. One of them - she's ashamed to admit she's not sure which one - says directly to her. She tries not reacting, but she glances at Harry. He's oblivious. Hermione purses her lips and nods a little at them.
"I know," She emphasizes the words, making it clear she's answering what they said, "that this is not what you were expecting for your birthday, but I hope you can learn something from this… I'll let your father decide what will be your little punishment." She gets up and yawns, feeling extremely drained and hungry. But before she can say anything else Cho barges into the room, her eyes wild. The only thing that stops her from coming to Hermione is the fact that the girls are there. Harry gets up and puts his arm around Cho, kissing her cheek. Hermione averts her eyes. "I'm gonna go now." She hugs Lily and then Laura, "You two behave yourselves, okay?"
"Girls," Harry says, "I hope this topic is buried for good." He looks directly at Hermione. Burying them. Hermione extends her hand to the closet she knows holds her coat and the piece of clothe comes flying to her. Putting it on she nods, agreeing with Harry.
"Yes. Enough of that. Enough." Her last word is for him and he understands what she means. "I'll see you on Sunday."
She doesn't wait for an answer. She walks past Cho and Harry, her body trembling from pure anger as she realizes that what they shared inside the wine cellar meant one thing to her and another entirely different for Harry. Angry at herself for saying those things, for exposing herself, for showing how much she cares and how much his actions affect her. She opens the front door herself as she holds her tears, understanding that she let herself hope, she let herself dream that Harry would go back to her. She steps outside, the cold air cutting into her. For her, for a brief moment it meant a new start, maybe a new rocky beginning, but for him… for him it was a goodbye. She hears his strong steps coming after her from the house, but she closes her eyes and apparates, leaving him behind, leaving 'Harry and Hermione' behind.