AN: Okay, I'm sorry. I got entangled in Better Man. Hehe... and for all you out there who don't like Hermione... hey, try and be a bit understanding. Poor girl's going through a crisis... and for all you know, she was sexually frustrated. *grin!*

Disclaimer: I have a feeling J.K. Rowling would go into cardiac arrest if she ever wandered onto ff.net.

Dedicated to: All the sexy people who reviewed! *mrawr!* I love you guys.

Chapter 12: Self-Doubt

We cease loving ourselves if no one loves us.

- Random quote.

***July 3, 2010***

Hermione stood in the middle of her living-room, watched Harry magically float his trunk in, and mentally asked herself what she had done with her life.

Harry, who set his trunk down at the foot of the stairs, looked up at her and caught her gaze. Hermione, taken by surprise, smiled immediately. Harry smiled back, and pretended to wipe imaginary sweat off his forehead as he floated the trunk all the way up the stairs.

Hermione waited until the click of the bedroom door had echoed down the stairwell before turning to go into her kitchen. As she walked into the familiar, blue-painted walls, she disentangled her fingers from the silver chain around her neck.

~*~

***August 2010***

"So, m'love, what do we eat for dinner tonight?" Harry slid into the chair across her, grinning widely. Hermione glanced at him. "What would you like?"

Harry leaned back and looked out the window, where a steady August rain was beginning to fall. "Hmm... something warm and homey... how about a simple steak?" Hermione got up and headed to the kitchen. "Yes. And mashed potatoes... gravy..." As she passed Harry, his slender hand reached out and caught hers.

She stopped. Looked down at him looking up at her with bright eyes. A fragment of forever passed, and Harry pulled her gently down to him, kissing her softly.

Hermione closed her eyes, but then, just that, it was over. Harry let go of her, and smiling softly, nodded towards the open kitchen door. Hermione smiled back and walked to the stove, where she closed the door behind her and broke down into bitter tears.

~*~

"Moody's been asking about you."

"Mm... I'm still on an official leave of absence, remember?"

"Hermione, it's been more than a year since... ah... the incarceration, and we need good hands."

"Mmhm. I'll see."

Harry removed his cloak and hung it up beside the door. He glanced at Hermione, and walked over to her, slipping his arms around her waist, and burying his face at the back of her neck.

"What are you doing, m'love?"

"Taking down these pictures."

Harry raised his head and looked up to watch her remove the Fastening Spells that kept the pictures magically attached to the wall. He noted, with some degree of satisfaction, that she was taking down every picture that had Draco in it.

"Malfoy." he said quietly, kissing the back of her neck.

"I don't know why I haven't taken these down before. I mean, I should have done this earlier... it just hurts, you know, seeing him so happy, so alive... when..."

"Hermione, m'love, you're babbling."

She twisted around in his arms, clutching her wand tightly, and he could see the tears sparkling in her eyes.

"You don't understand."

He was silent. Then. "Oh yes I do."

He kissed her, then, tasting the salt of her tears and the warmth of her mouth.

But to tell the truth, he didn't understand. How could he?

~*~

The pictures were gone the next day.

In fact, almost everything that even hinted that a Draco Malfoy once walked the corridors of that house was gone, tucked away in a trunk sealed with Unbreakable Spells, and the pain of Hermione's grief.

That August afternoon, while the orange leaves blew on outside on the fingers of cold winds, Hermione sat on her soft blue couch, glanced around the house, and wondered just how much it had changed. Just how much she had changed.

You seem so... empty lately. Ginny's words echoed back to her, accompanied by a chill breeze blowing in from an open window.

I don't know... you don't seem ... up to things, if you know what I mean...

Ginny had noticed that Hermione still wore the Soul-Keeper, though she never mentioned it. Ginny was a tactful girl, but when Hermione would "space-out" during the times they would go out for lunch together, she had to take steps.

Hermione closed her eyes, curled up tighter against the increasingly chilly breeze at her window, and recalled the day Ginny had finally told her the truth.

Walking in the May sunshine... the year after Draco had been imprisoned.

"Hey, where do you want to eat for lunch, Hermione?" Ginny looked especially pretty that day, walking jauntily beside her best friend. Hermione, on the other hand, looked pale and thin... widow's weeds... Ginny thought sadly.

"How about ... here?" Ginny stopped in front of a random restaurant. Hermione glanced up at the sign and immediately shook her head. "That's where Draco and I used to meet everyday for lunch..." she whispered. Ginny, realizing her mistake, stepped quickly away from the restaurant, taking Hermione's hand and leading her away, remarking that there were a lot more restaurants along the Alley, but Hermione stopped dead.

Her Soul-Keeper glowed red-orange under her drab gray turtleneck. "No. Let's eat here."

In the restaurant, Hermione couldn't seem to stop talking about how Draco loved the roast beef there, and when the waitress came along, she ordered exactly that. Throughout the meal, she kept babbling on about Draco ... until Ginny thought she would scream.

"Hermione." Ginny said softly, reaching across the table. Hermione stopped in the middle of a story of how Draco had waited for three hours just to see her again. "Yes?"

"I know this is very hard for you, going through all this..." Ginny stopped, and tried to find the right words. "... but you aren't going to make it any easier on yourself, and on us, if you keep trying to call back what was once there and isn't anymore."

She sucked in her breath and watched Hermione carefully. Finally, Hermione sighed softly and withdrew her hand from Ginny's. "I know." she said quietly, looking down at her barely touched roast beef. Ginny kept silent...

The meal ended in silence, and Hermione walked home with the empty space in her heart throbbing painfully.

On the couch, Hermione took one more glance around her once-familiar living room. At the empty spaces on the walls where his pictures used to hang. At the coat rack where he always hung up his sleek black leather coat every night. The coffee spot on the table beside her where he always... always set down his coffee mug.

He was as much a part of this house as Hermione was herself... and he was just as much a part of Hermione.

And what am I trying to do? Tear him away from me?

She felt the tears, those stupid, weak tears, prickling the back of her eyes.

I can't do that. He is me.

The sounds of her sobbing could be heard throughout the empty house.

Night fell, and Hermione finally got up and closed the window.

~*~

***September 3, 2010***

"Harry."

"Yes, m'love?"

He looked especially happy tonight.

"Why are you so..."

"Happy?"

"Yes."

He smiled jauntily at her, and moving in one swift motion, swept her into his arms. She gasped, and scrabbled to hold onto his neck. Harry carried her over to the couch.

"Today is the day I broke up with Berna and moved in with you. Well, say two months fast forward." he leaned forward to kiss her, but Hermione moved away.

"Berna." she said.

He looked disappointed. "What about her?"

Hermione stood up from the couch, avoiding his gaze. "Oh, nothing. Why don't I drop her a line, say hello... she still lives in your apartment, right?" She moved into the kitchen, still talking. "Would you like a cup of tea or something?"

Harry followed her into the kitchen. "Why Berna all of a sudden? I was thinking we'd do something special tonight... like go out for dinner..."

Hermione busied herself with the tea. "Berna? Oh, she's a nice girl. I'd regret losing our friendship with her... you are still friends with her, aren't you? Why don't we pass by her house sooner or later, have a little chat..."

Harry leaned against the counter, watching Hermione's jerky, nervous movements as she poured the tea. "I don't think so." he said softly, his eyes glittering. Hermione stopped dead at the sound of his voice. "Harry... is something wrong? I'm sorry if I brought up Berna..."

He moved closer, and Hermione felt his warm breath on the back of her neck. His lips touched the spot right below her ear, and Hermione unknowingly gripped the teaspoon tighter and tighter.

"Harry..." she whispered. "Mmm..." he murmured against her neck. "Don't... stop." she closed her eyes and succumbed to bliss.