Hermione pulled the string, letting the dust fall onto her soft brown hair, speckling it with grey as though she was an old woman. She blew her wispy bangs out of her face and yanked the stairs down. She slowly unfolded them and climbed up, her white sneakers clicking on the wooden boards.
It was dark and dusty in the attic, and she coughed loudly, sending sprays of dust around her. Hermione flicked the light switch, illuminating the small room in golden light. She walked over to a pile of boxes, reading the labels out loud. "Quilts...old computer...bookshelf..." She sighed and turned around, finally spotting the box in a particularly dusty and dark corner of the room.
Hermione ran across the shaky floorboard, kneeled down and wiped the dust away. "Winter clothes." She breathed, grabbing the edges of the box and yanking. It flew out, and she landed on her back, rocking on a creaking floorboard, the box clutched to her chest, and a cloud of dust surrounding her.
She sat up and set the box down, looking over at the stack she had pulled it out of. She looked at the other three boxes, reading from top to bottom. "Bathing suits, mom's antiques," Slowly her eyes trailed to the last box and slowly, softly, as though she was whispering to a stranger in the dark, she read, "Hogwarts Memories."
It was four years ago that she had graduated from Hogwarts as Head Girl. Her two best friends were Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Ron was dead, and Harry? Harry had disappeared as an Auror. She cried every time she thought about either of them. Every time she thought about the memories of Hogwarts, all the lives taken, all the lives ruined, all the misery she cried. That's why Hermione had left England and lived in a secluded part of Northern Ireland. It was futile attempt to escape the pain and memories of her seven years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Hermione felt her cinnamon brown eyes fill with tears as she read the label over and over again. She licked her lips as she tried to decide whether to run away and leave this box up in the attic, all the happy memories covered in dust, or take it, and face them as icy tears rushed down her cheeks,
Slowly Hermione set down the box full of winter clothes and crawled forward. With a deep suck of breath inward she grabbed the box and pulled it from underneath the others. While tears flooded down her cheeks at the terror of opening the box and being swamped with the sad and happy memories of her past, she picked it up slowly and walked back down the stairs.
Gingerly she pushed open her light purple bedroom door and walked over to her bed, covered in down comforters and silk pillows. Crookshanks lay on her bed, old, but still very alive and very happy. "Hey Crookshanks. Good boy." She said, softly stroking his fur before setting the box down on her bed.
Hermione pulled her car keys out of her pocket and sliced the brown tape open. A puff a dust covered her reading glasses, and she pulled them off her face and tossed them on the floor. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and looked into the box.
It was like being at Hogwarts again. She pulled her willow wand out of the box and waved it gently around. A tear dripped onto her bed as purple light shone from the end of the wand. It was like she was a witch again, a real true witch with a wand and a quill and spell books. She smiled at Crookshanks, who looked up, remembering the purple glow of her wand from years and years ago.
Next Hermione grabbed a stack of books including Hogwarts, A History , Exploring the Dark Arts, and Arithmancy Around the World. She smiled, remembering being the smartest girl at Hogwarts. She was Head Girl, envy of everyone who...well, wanted to be smart.
Hermione tossed her long black school robe onto her pillow and pulled out the last item, a photo album. On the cover was her, four years ago, smiling a sweet smile, her wand in her hand, her hair in french braids, a wizard hat perched on her brown hair. She blew the dust off the red cover and smiled at herself.
The smile faded as she opened the book and saw immediately a picture of her, Harry, and Ron sitting on the front steps of Hogwarts. Tears welled in Hermione's brown eyes, threatening to shower the page. She read the caption to her self, her mouth forming the words "Dream Team: 5th year."
As fast as possible she flipped through the pages. She paused on pictures of Lavender, her arm swung over Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnagin, Colin Creevy, Professor Dumbledore, and everyone she could bear looking at. If she found a picture of George, Ron, Harry, or Ginny, tears began to drop onto the pictures, smudging their smiling faces.
Hermione took a deep sigh and let herself look at the last page of the book, with what should have been the best picture of all. It showed her and Harry kissing passionately. She almost smiled, even though tears were rushing down her cheeks at the way his hand fit so perfectly on her back, her hand was coming up slowly to block the camera. Ron was sitting on a couch, his arm wrapped around Lavender, laughing. Whoever was taking the picture's fingernail was visible, and it was so obviously Ginny Weasly. She sniffled, snapped the book shut, and dropped it in the box, scaring Crookshanks so her ran down the hall.
I can't take it. She thought slowly. I need to know where Harry is, I can't always hide from the past. With a sigh, she pulled the album out of the box and set it on her night stand where her tissues, alarm, and water glass sat. She wiped her eyes and nose with a tissue and took a sip of water. It was time to face the past.
~**~
Hermione yawned and stretched as her alarm blared. She hit the off switch and checked the time. It was 7: 50, time to get up and go to work at the library. She was the director of the Portrush Public Library, and was paid a fortune to work there. She rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. It was Sunday, the only day she didn't have to work.
She rolled out of bed and wiped her eyes. Crookshanks stirred at the foot of her bed, but kept tight in a ball. Hermione opened her closet, shrugging and pulled out a pair of bell bottom jeans with embroidered legs and a simple blue sweater. She changed quickly, pulled her socks and shoes on, and stood in front of her mirror. She didn't know why, but she wanted to look nice. She pulled her hair into a quick bun and put on golden lip gloss.
Hermione waved a quick goodbye to Crookshanks, grabbed her coat, and headed out the door into the icy November winds. She bent her head, her brown hair flying behind her, with no concept of where she was headed. She walked for at least an hour, until, tired, she collapsed on a bench. She leaned her head back, laid down, and closed her eyes.
"Excuse me Miss." A voice that sounded oddly familiar said. "Could you please move?" Hermione opened her eyes slowly and sat up, turning sideways.
"Sorry." Hermione replied softly.
"Don't worry. I've just been walking a long way." He replied, not looking at Hermione, but across the street to a park where the leaves were turning golden shades.
"Me too. Do...I know you?" She asked.
"No...I'd remember you. You're too beautiful." Hermione could see a hint of a warm smile on his face, even though he was barley looking at her. He looked up suddenly, catching Hermione's eyes with his brown ones. "What would your name be?" He asked softly, almost like he was afraid of the answer.
Hermione swallowed. "Hermione...Hermione Granger."
"Hermione..." He looked at her with his brown eyes, and Hermione seemed to recognize him. His smile was so warm, so kind, and his eyes were brilliant and glowing. She licked her lips slowly, and moved a little close to him, to get a good look into his brown eyes.
Hermione took a sharp intake of breath. "Oh dear God...Harry Potter. It's you." There was no mistake. No matter what color his eyes happened to be, she could never forget them. The way they penetrated her soul, made her smile, made her cry, and how she knew from the first time she looked into his emerald green eyes that she would love him forever.
His eyes widened and her pulled down the hood of his jacket, revealing a mess of black hair. "Hermione...it's me..."
Hermione felt tears welling up in her eyes. She buried her face in her hands and spoke through them, her voice choked with sobs. "You're back. After all these years...you're back. I didn't know what happened to you. You're alive! You left me here for no reason, with no one!" She took a deep breath, looked into his eyes, and continued. "Harry, I loved you. I trusted you. When you left to become an Auror or whatever the heck you did, I was heartbroken. And you're alive, right here, right now. I really don't know how I feel about this..."
Harry could feel tears in his own eyes, forcing the brown contacts out of his eyes and into his hands. He threw them on the ground. "Hermione...I had to. I had to finish what I had started. I had no choice."
"Oh, yes you did! You had a choice." Hermione felt another wave of tears and she let her head droop again and covered her face with her hands before softly saying, "I thought you were dead! But most of all, I thought you had loved me!"
Harry took a deep breath and slowly said. "I'm sorry. And Hermione..." He lifted her chin up and looked into her brown eyes, overflowing with tears. "I do love you" He cupped her cheeks in his hands and slowly brought his mouth to hers in a sweet kiss. Electricity shot through her body like in their seventh year.
Hermione felt herself smile and slowly laugh, trying not to pull away. Harry smiled too. "What?" He asked.
"It's just...after four years...how much I still love you." She whispered.
"I know." Harry said softly, before he kissed her
again quickly. Hermione wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug and
rested her head in his shoulder. Tears soaked his jacket, but they weren't
tears of pain and sadness, they were tears of pure joy.
