A/N: Heaven knows I haven't written in a while, and yes I'm aware of still unfinished stories (apologies from me and the muse) but I'm alone for Christmas this year and living in a completely foreign country... I just needed an outlet and something to put me in the holiday mood and more importantly, writing mood again. It's likely the chapters will all be rather short as it's less overwhelming to deliver that way. I'm counting on your support and comments! 3 Lots of love and holiday cheer to you all!
A difficult request
November was finally wrapping up for the year and along with it the mild weather. Gentle rain was falling over the streets of London, although the same could not be said about the biting cold gushes of wind. Hermione Granger pulled her plaid coat tighter together at the base of her neck, as though that would miraculously make her trek to the Whitechapel Costa café a warmer one. When finally she arrived there, she was welcomed by the noises and clatter of coffee cups and chit-chats. And a warm heater, thank Merlin.
Immediately she saw the top of Harry's messy black head and was relieved she hadn't been the first to arrive. She hated to wait for anything, anxiety always managing to take over her.
"Hello you," she said with a cheerful smile… Although the level of cheerfulness could easily be debated about. For all intents and purposes she was at fault here—she'd been very much an absent friend for almost a decade.
Nevertheless that lopsided grin appeared on his face–and Merlin how that face she loved had changed. Harry was all grown up now and wore a dare-say sexy scruff of beard very well. He seemed bigger in the taller and muscle-y sense.
"D'you know I've been watching you all these years?" He asked, eyeing her from over his mug of steaming hot cocoa.
"Oh God, Harry, don't go 'round saying that stuff—people might reckon you a creep!" Hermione unfastened the buttons and the built of her coat and draped it over the back of her chair.
She wore an ivory-colored turtleneck and her favorite mom-type jeans that made her hips and bum look good. It wasn't always that she came to London and she liked to look the part on occasion. Needless to say a coat of ruby-red lipstick had been applied on her lips and some mascara had been painstakingly applied.
"How are things on your little island?" he asked, with genuine interest.
"Feels like home, actually. I thought it'd cost me more as I haven't ever settled down anywhere, not since Hogwarts anyway." She examined his face more carefully now, his eyes behind the round spectacles, a good upgrade from the ones from their youth. "How are things here on the bigger island?"
"Just, utter shit, really. Like more than usual."
"I know. I'm a journalist, Harry, I keep up with the news."
"Then why do you ask?"
"Because I actually care to know your side of the facts…" She eyed him in that piercing part maternal, part 'I know you, you daft moron' type way. Like if he wasn't careful she'd use her powerful legilimency skills and just read his mind. "And no, Harry, I will not attempt to invade your mind again." she said with a dramatic roll of her eyes.
He chuckled at this.
"Things have taken a change for the worse, Mione. Now is the time to ambush them and dismantle them before they dismantle the fuck out of us—I, I need your help."
Hermione frowned deeply.
"I can't do war anymore, Harry. I just can't… I lost my mum and dad because of it, I lost so much. We lost Ginny and Tonks and so many of our friends…"
"I know. I know that… I'm not asking you to go to battle with me..."
She watched as his expression completely changed, as though the careful façade of public Harry dissolved into the one of younger Harry. The Harry she knew from way back when who was absolutely anguished by the burdens he carried—by all the trauma and the unfair responsibility of being the boy who lived. This Harry she hadn't seen in years–and it pained her, truly.
It hurt that they'd fought so much to grow away from the teenagers they once were to try and live normal, happy lives. Yet, and herein lies the irony, here they were again on the verge of another war. Peace was such a fickle thing in general but it more and more felt like something far too utopian in their world.
"Anything, Harry. I'll do anything to help, you know that. You're the family I have left."
Harry scoffed at her words and this action alone took her aback. She knitted her eyebrows together and crossed her arms over her chest defensively.
"Families make the effort of seeing each other more often, Hermione. When was the last time you came home? That you cared to visit with Ron, Luna, Neville and me? When was the last time you saw your godchildren?"
She sighed deeply. "I needed to figure out my life, Harry. I'm sorry if I was selfish for once in my life and made my profession and personal growth the priority!"
"I'm not criticizing your job and your life choices, for Merlin's sake, Hermione. I'm questioning the fact that you barely stopped to think about and consider us. I mean, has it even dawned on you that this is the first we're seeing each other in three years? Yeah, I'm sure hiking up the himalayas and visiting Buddhist retreats in Nepal or negotiating for peace in the Palestinian border was a lot more interesting than our little lives here…"
"Let's… Harry, I don't want to fight. I don't want to argue. Have you thought that maybe that's why I haven't come home more often? It's always great for the first five minutes until you start accusing me of things?"
"I don't—"
"Yes. Yes you do and you bloody well know it. You never got over the fact that I didn't stay."
He felt an anger begin to stir and rise up within him, but tried his hardest to keep it at bay. This was nor the time or place for them to air out their past. It took everything in Harry's being to steady his voice and relax his fisted hands under the table. He looked at her with an almost steel-cold gaze, his voice taking on a steady, serious voice, the tone he used when angry at his children but trying hard not to be a version of his Dursley uncle.
"I'd end this conversation, this meeting or whatever right here, Hermione, but it so fucking happens that I need you more than ever right now. You're the only person I can trust to protect my children."
This stopped her from uttering any other passive-aggressive nonsense or jumping out of her seat and storming off. Hermione's face went pale, her eyes went wide. The gravity of the situation finally dawned over her.
"Protect the children?"
"Will you do it? Please? It's the last thing I'll ever ask from you. You have the skills and the foresight to care for them and make sure they're safe. There's no one out there who knows more than you do, who is more accomplished with a wand in battle or during an attack… If I can't be there myself at least I'll be at peace knowing they're with you."
"How did it come to this, Harry?" Her eyes softened as she gazed back at him.
"I wish I knew… I wish I had realized earlier—I have failed miserably until now and I can't let this be—I have to put an end to this Death eater craze nonsense and to Dark Phoenix once and for all. They've threatened my kids. There were explosions near Lily's school and anonymous, untraceable letters flying in daily, often more than once a day with threats on her life and on Teddy's life. We both know just how safe Hogwarts is, Hermione…"
"No need to say more. Of course I'll protect them Harry, you don't even need to ask." She stretched her arms across the table, reaching for his hands. It was a peace-offering, a truce if you would.
She saw as his shoulders untensed and he breathed out a deep sigh of relief. When his eyes finally met with hers she could tell they were brimmed with tears.
"Th-thank you. Thank you. And I'm sorry—you're right… I never fully forgave you for not staying, but could you blame me? I was madly in love with you."
She nodded, looking down at the wooden table top. Their hands were still entwined.
"It was the hardest decision I ever took, in some ways harder than wiping away my parents' memories and sending them off. It was hard because you were my one true, greatest friend, still are, but especially because I was in love with you too… Deeply so. But I wasn't ready, Harry—I was just a girl and I'd already missed out on so much... I wasn't ready." Tears shone in her eyes then but there was also tenderness there.
"It just kills me that our lives could have been different in many ways."
"I love the life I've built for myself, Harry. I wouldn't change the decision I made even if I had a time turner again… I would perhaps have changed some things, done some things differently. Like maybe I'd have asked you to join me."
Her words were like a blow to his stomach.
"I'd have loved for you to ask me…"
Hermione let out a shaky breath as she heard this.
"I didn't want to make you choose, though. I didn't think it was fair to you. You'd built a life, you had Teddy and your career and all those hot, sexy girlfriends… Then came Lily… And you never gave me any indication…"
"I was afraid. I know, I know—not very Gryffindorish of me," Hermione smiled at this. She'd turned out quite the coward herself. "Also, for the record, while we're being very uncharacteristically British and sentimental here in this random muggle café—the hot, sexy girlfriends had nothing on you in a sexy wool sweater sitting with a book in front of the common room fire. That was kind of the thing for me."
Hermione's eyebrows shot up almost to her hairline. Of all things he could've said she hadn't been expecting that.
"You've seen me like that millions of times, Harry!"
"And after a while I came to sexualize it." His tone of voice was even rather wistful as he recalled it. "Ravishing you by the fireplace? Taking your attention off a stupid book? Going down on you?"
A touch of crimson blossomed on his cheeks and Hermione couldn't help but flush all over herself.
"You have one strange concept of sexy!" He chuckled at her reply. "My God, after that one I think I need a stiff drink, not a latte!" She muttered, bringing her hand to her cheek, impossibly embarrassed.
"Have you ever lusted over me?" His eyes were shining with a boylike wickedness.
Hermione comically averted her gaze, shaking her head.
The stupid grin returned to Harry's face, "You know, this is what I miss the most. Us." He said, pointing his finger between them.
"You better finish this mission and vanquish these idiotic deatheater wannabes very soon, Harry." She said, seconds later. She grabbed his hand once again, staring deep into his eyes. "Who knows, there might even be a fantasy for you to fulfill…"
He'd never heard her speak like that, with such a low, sultry tone of voice.
"Now, I'm excited." He declared with a grin, finishing off his coffee.
"Now, when can I expect the children?"