Jump to mid-December.
"So you have to go on the 20th?"
"19th." I tell him.
"And you won't be able to come to The Burrow until the 28th. That's a week." He sulks.
"It's actually 9 days..."
"Wonderful."
I had just told Harry about my decision to go home for Christmas. Harry was disappointed, but I pointed out
that he'd spent more time away from me than 9 days, it's already been proven
that neither of us would combust without the company of the other.
We walk down the aisles of Prince Kleimus's Kingdom of Everything, a wizarding department store that actually did have everything. Everything from pets to sporting goods to tiny fairies hat play your pianos for you graced the surprisingly organized shelves. We wander aimlessly, trying to shop for Chrismat presents (relatively late), even though I've suggested only a hundred times that Harry should just give everyone gift certificates or money, the gift that truly keeps giving. He insists that he needs to find something perfect for everyone.
"Since when did YOU become the perfectionist?"
"They'll expect something big, especially since we're both doing so well
now."
"Well, we could pick up a hooker or two if you'd like." I joke.
He shoots me a look that said "Stop hanging out with Lavender.", then holds up
some shirts. "I have no idea about sizes. What's a large? How large do you
have to be to wear a large? Is it like a large, large or tall, large?"
"Harry, please give them cash."
"It doesn't seem personal."
"Fine, I'll give them cash on your behalf."
"I thought women liked shopping."
"Yes we do, but we know what a large is."
He moves away from the women's clothing lines, and drags me back into other
aisles. The bookshelves are our next victim. I can't believe how many different
gift boxes featuring Harry Potter there are lined up at the front.
"What would you want to read?" He asks me as he walks down, past the
bestseller shelf which contained primarily his own staring face and shining
scar.
"Are you buying a book for me?"
"No, for mom."
"Oh, because I was going to suggest the Kama Sutra."
"Where's that aisle?" He looks around anxiously.
"Harry, if you don't know what people like to read, then you can't buy
them something you'd want yourself. It's such a cop out. Give them a gift
certificate, they can get a book they like."
"Should I give up?"
"You shouldn't have waited until it was so late." We're now standing
by the magazines and I see his goofy grin gracing the cover of a magazine, so I
pick that up. "Can you buy me this?" I smile at him.
"No, I don't have twenty Sickles or whatever it costs."
"Liar."
"I thought you weren't a fangirl."
"I'm not, but they are." I point to the three girls standing behind
him, looking at the magazine cover, then back at his face, trying to figure out
if this is indeed their lucky day.
"Ohmygosh!" One of them yells out and I know they've hit the jackpot.
He tries to calm them down, and promises he'll not only autograph the magazine
for them, but he'll also pay for their copies so long as they keep a low
profile and let us get out of the store quietly. They're excited and hanging on
to his every word, which gives me a chance to pick up a book for some bedtime
reading. Magical Journalism.
"That's not what you said you wanted." He says when we make it out
and he glances at the cover.
"It wasn't that kind of store." I laugh.
"Can you please come home with me? Please?" he begs suddenly.
"Harry, I'll be going there later…"
"I know. I'm just whining. But I have something for you." He pulls a small package out of a bag and hands it to me.
"It's not Christmas yet."
"It's not for Christmas."
I open the package, revealing a small mirror. It seems vaguely familiar, but I can't quite recall what it did. "What is it?"
"It's a two-way mirror we can use to communicate. We don't have to Floo all the time, just say
my name clearly to the mirror and we can talk.
There are two and I have the other one.
Sirius gave me one like this back in fifth year."
"Oh Harry….Thank you!" I hug him. A wizard cell phone. "Harry, how much did this cost."
"Doesn't matter. No price is too high if I want to be with you."
That just gave me the impression that they cost a fortune. I ran a finger along the intricately designed frame. Then I clasped it in both hands and spoke very clearly. "Harry Potter."
Harry pulls out his own mirror and looks into it. In my mirror Harry's grinning face appears. He waves goofily.
"Hi Harry. Do you still love me?" I say into the mirror. I hear my voice coming through his mirror and I know that he's looking at my face right now too.
"Always, Hermy."
*
Mom is smiling when I reach The Burrow , and I wonder briefly whether it's
because she's gotten over my living arrangements or because she doesn't see
Hermione by my side and thinks she has an opportunity to wear me down.
"Hi," I say, feeling strangely awkward around her.
"Hi," she says and motions for me to follow her into the
kitchen. It's cleaner than I remember,
but still carries that familiar smell of home.
She pours me some tea and announces that Ron would be coming tonight and Ginny will be coming tomorrow or the next day. The twins had arrived earlier but left in a hurry for some "important business" and would be back in a bit. Bill and Charlie were outside de-gnoming the backyard but both had things to attend to at their respective jobs so they would be leaving early, and Mr. Weasley would be home late because he was called off on emergency Ministry affairs.
"How is your puppy?"
"Fine. He and Crookshanks are at Lavender's for the holidays." And I hope that Lavender is not finding ways to corrupt our puppy.
"So.
Where's Hermione?"
"She decided she should go be with her family for awhile. I thought I told
you that."
"You haven't told me much of anything lately," she says and I sigh.
"Are we going to do this again?"
"What?"
"Fight about my relationship with Hermione."
"What's the point?" she asks. "Is it going to change your
mind?"
"No."
"Then I'm not going to say another word about it."
I eye her warily but don't pursue the matter further.
. . . .
I soon find out that she's agreed to keep her opinion to herself because she's
recruited some of her friends to voice theirs.
It looks like she has invited every person I've ever known to dinner and they
waste no time in asking me about Hermione.
"So what's she like?" Ms. Fortescue asks, kissing me on the
cheek. Apparently she and my mother had
become good friends over the years.
"Who?"
"This girl your mother tells me you're living with."
"She's great. She's
Hermione."
She raises an eyebrow and I know my mother has filled her in.
One after another, various friends of my mother's come up to share their
opinion about how living alone has changed me.
"You were such a good boy," they say, as though I'm now knocking over
convenience stores and hanging out in crack houses.
I sigh, "We're not doing anything wrong."
Ron and the twins snicker and I fulfill my obligation to
kick them each under the table.
The ladies look from my mother to me and back again and shake their heads
sadly, as though someone has died.
"Why didn't she come with you?" another asks. "If you were
committed to each other, she'd be with you."
"She has family she wanted to see," I reason.
"Then why aren't you with her?"
"We don't need to be with each other constantly," I say simply, under
the illusion that this reasoning will be logical to them. Of course, it isn't.
"Why don't we leave Harry and Hermione alone?" Ron
defends me. "They're together, why
can't we just leave it at that?"
Each time my mother walks by, the conversation stops and I ponder this while I
eat my dinner.
How many people has she told, exactly?
By the end of the evening I'm exhausted and excuse myself so that I can use the
mirror to see Hermione before going to bed.
I just reach Ron's room and pick up the mirror when my mom knocks on the door.
"Yeah?"
She sticks her head in the door.
"I just wanted to make sure you had enough blankets."
"I'm fine."
"It was nice of everyone to come by, wasn't it?"
"Yeah," I smile politely.
"Everyone was saying that you seem tired, drained."
"I got up early."
"I don't think that's what they mean."
"Then why don't they say what they mean?" I snap and she looks hurt.
"I'm sorry."
"What's wrong, Harry?"
"What did you tell them about Hermione, Mom?"
"About Hermione? Nothing really."
I shake my head at her.
She sighs, "Harry, you know I'm worried about you."
"Yeah, I got that."
"What do you want me to tell them? They ask me how you're doing. They ask
if you've found a nice girl…"
"Here's an idea. Tell them 'Yes' and leave it at that."
"You young people here don't think the same way other people do."
"Yeah, I've noticed," I comment dryly.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Do you know what your friend Madame Malkin said to me at dinner?"
She waits until I tell her.
"She said it was heartbreaking that I didn't take up with a nice, lively
girl that could make me happy and let me have some fun. What do you think she
meant, Mom?"
"I'm sure she didn't mean what you assume she meant."
"Oh, really?"
"Harry, you have to understand that you're a world wide celebrity. Your image is everywhere and a lot of people
are not liking your image at this point.
It's your own safety they are worried about."
"What's my image? Huh? I'm some brainless heartthrob that shouldn't
have anyone except some thin, tall, leggy blond bimbo? Are small, bushy-haired geniuses too
inferior for me?"
"Harry!" she admonishes me.
I glare at her.
"You know what, whatever you told them, I want you to fix it. Tell them
you were wrong. Because if Hermione arrives to this and they act in anyway even
resembling how they acted tonight, not to mention worse, we'll march straight
back to London."
"You're blaming me?"
"They're not giving her, us… any of it, a chance. I think we should at
least have that much. Especially from you."
She backs out of my room and closes the door firmly. I feel a little guilty,
but it needed to be said. Ron opens the
door a second later.
"I'm sorry, mate. They're all being stupid."
"Thanks, Ron."
"If they weren't all nice old ladies, I'd give them all good kicks right up their saggy behinds."
"Yeah."
"Hermione is twice the woman that any of them would pair you up with. You are lucky. You both are. And you're not going to let all that go just because a gaggle of old ladies told you to. Right?"
"Definitely."
I decide to leave Hermione in peace for one night and lay
down still clothed and close my eyes, hoping that I'll wake up somewhere else.
*
"Hi."
He sounds pretty dejected in the morning when I look in my mirror.
"Having a rough time?" I ask and sit up in bed.
"I'm just, seeing things for the first time or something. And I yelled at
my mom, which means I'll have to grovel later so I'm definitely wishing I were
someplace else right now."
"It's Christmastime, Harry, it's always nicest to be home."
"I could be home with you."
"In a few days. How is Ron? And the twins? Is Ginny there yet?"
He sighs melodramatically and I almost chuckle. I know he's about to go into a long tirade, so I tell him I'm
still in bed, haven't been to the bathroom yet, haven't eaten a thing and he
shows his generous and merciful side by letting me go.
I love the smell of my mom's cookies baking in the oven. She always gets up
early during the holidays and by the time I wake up, the aroma permeates the
entire upstairs hallway. It's such a warm, homey feeling.
I get dressed quickly and run downstairs to the kitchen. I see a couple of
batches are already done and I grab a cookie in each hand, then go look for the
paper.
"Are you going to have that for breakfast?" Mom comes up behind me.
"Yesh." I mumble with my mouth crammed with cookie.
"I can make you real food. What do you want? Eggs? Pancakes?"
"Cookeesh."
"Do you want milk with that?" Ah, so she's given up on the
breakfast. It used to take a lot longer
when I was a kid.
"Juice."
"What am I going to do with you on a sugar high?"
"Run around the house, chasing me, yelling about how I'll have to stand in
the corner for ever and ever until infinity?"
"Did I do that?" She laughs.
"Once. When I brought in the branches from the yard and then chopped them
up in the blender, killing the blades." I look up at her.
"Oh, yes, I remember. Why did you do that anyway?"
"I wanted to prove trees were vegetables by putting them in a smoothie. I mean, they grow out of the ground and
all." I look at her devilishly, until she shakes her head at me with a couple
of tsk tsk sounds for good measure.
"So why didn't you bring him?"
She's been respectful of my privacy, and even though I've talked about Harry a
little since I've been back, I find myself more reserved than I have been in
the past. It might be that I feel it'll all vanish if I open my mouth and spill
my secrets.
"I thought he should go home for Christmas. I'm thinking of spending a few
days there too."
"Okay."
I skip a beat while she mixes some batter in a bowl. "The thing is, you
seem to be fine with us, or at least that's how you're acting. Mrs. Weasley is
still not taking it well."
"And he's not sure he can handle it? Being with you?"
"I don't know. I know he wants to be with me. I know he loves me, it's not
something I think he said for fun. But it's got to be draining, sitting there,
listening to person after person tell you that it's more trouble than it's
worth."
"Love is always worth it." She tells me, her tone firm. "I have
a daughter and I'd never trade that for anything in the world."
"Now you're going to make me cry." I say with tears already pooling
in my eyes. "I love you."
"I love you too. You want to bake with me or are you too upper class
now?"
It's such an easy choice.
*
I'm almost at the bottom of the stairs when I hear voices emerging from the
kitchen. More than just my mother's. I shake my head and look down at myself to
make sure I'm presentable for company and then wander into the kitchen for some
juice.
"Good morning," my mother greets me, all sunshine and lollipops for
the benefit of her company.
"Morning," I mumble.
"Harry, you remember Ms. Fortescue? And this is her daughter,
Stephanie."
I give my mother a look and smile at Ms. Fortescue and Stephanie, who is about
my age.
"Good morning," I say to both of them, reaching for a juice glass.
"Good morning, Harry." Ms. Fortescue nudges her daughter and
Stephanie smiles shyly at me.
"What are your plans for the day, Harry?" my mother asks.
"I don't know. I was going to hang around with Ron until Ginny comes
over…"
"Maybe you can spend time with for a while? I know for a fact Ron won't be getting up for hours."
Why do I have to entertain her? I want to ask. It's not Stephanie's fault
though so I shrug, "Yeah, sure."
"Oh, you don't have to," she says, speaking for the first time.
She sounds embarrassed at the situation and I can't help but feel badly for
her.
"It's fine," I assure her. "Besides," I wink, "It's
better than hanging you with these two all day."
Those two choose to ignore me and I smile at Stephanie.
"I'm just going to run upstairs and take a quick shower and get ready.
I'll be back in a few minutes."
She smiles appreciatively and I run up the stairs.
. . . .
"I've been to lots of your games," Stephanie says as we walk around
idley
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah. I thought you should have won that last one against the
Tornadoes."
"Thank you. But I do think I was a bit…distracted…that game." I say,
remembering Hermione's birthday activities.
"Oh. It's just that I remembered
you… from school. You were always so nice. I wanted you to win, that's
all."
"Thank you," I say again and I stop to look over at her. "We
went to school together?"
"You don't remember me, do you?" She laughs self-deprecatingly.
"That's okay, I wasn't very memorable."
"Awww, I'm sure that's not true. I just see a lot of people now," I
apologize. "I have a hard time remembering faces."
"You were nice to me," she says again. "You helped me pick up
all my books when I dropped them outside the library and you used to stop and
talk to me when I was sitting by myself."
"Oh, wow. You were that girl a
year younger than us. Hufflepuff"
I shake my head in disbelief. "I never knew your name!"
She laughs again.
"It's okay. Not many people
noticed me. And other girls pretty much
avoided me."
"I'm sorry I never asked."
She shrugs. As she does so, her hair falls forward into her eyes and she
brushes it away. She looks up at me and I notice the deep, chocolate colour of
her eyes. It's an unusual colour when paired with her pale blonde hair. She's
got a sprinkling of freckles across her tiny nose and her lips look soft and
... and I have a girlfriend, so I turn my attention back to where I'm walking.
But I wonder momentarily why I didn't notice her back in Hogwarts.
"I know who Hermione is too," she tells me and I lift my eyebrows in
surprise.
"Lots of girls didn't like her much either."
"No," I agree. "They didn't."
"They're loss. Hermione was decent
to me. They'll get theirs," she says
and I laugh at the determination in her voice.
"What, are you planning to spike their drinks with a Weasley Whizard
Wheezes Specialty?"
She doesn't comment and I can't stop laughing.
"Does your mother know you're this devious?"
"I'm a nice girl," she tells me. "As long as I'm good in front
of her…"
I shake my head.
"You're not going to tell, are you?"
"Me? No, I think I've learned that the less they know, the better. But my advice to you is to just avoid
Lavender Brown. She and Hermione are
friends now."
I sigh, thinking about my current situation with my mother and she looks over
at me.
"Are you okay?"
I shake myself out of it and nod.
"Yeah."
"I'm sure you don't remember, but I'm a good listener."
I laugh, "I don't. But thank you, I'll keep that in mind."
"Great" she smiles. "Anytime you need to escape your mother and
I need to escape mine, then?"
"Deal."
