In This Life
Chapter 1
I'll be the grapes fermented,
Bottled and served with the table set in my finest suit
Like a perfect gentlemen
I'll be the fire escape that's bolted to the ancient brick
Where you will sit and contemplate your day
I'll be the water wings that save you if you start drowning
In an open tab when your judgment's on the brink
I'll be the phonograph that plays your favorite
Albums back as you're lying there drifting off to sleep...
I'll be the platform shoes and undo what heredity's done to you...
You won't have to strain to look into my eyes
I'll be your winter coat buttoned and zipped straight to the throat
With the collar up so you won't catch a cold
I want to take you far from the cynics in this town
And kiss you on the mouth
We'll cut out bodies free from the tethers of this scene,
Start a brand new colony
Where everything will change,
We'll give ourselves new names
Identities erased
The sun will heat the grounds
Under our bare feet in this brand new colony
Everything will change
-"Brand New Colony," The Postal Service
»-»-»
Harry Potter was slouched into a chair in his flat off of Diagon Alley, twirling a quill between two fingers. Although he was supposed to be completing some paperwork for the Order, of which he was now heading, he was deep in thought. About what, you ask? It's pretty easy to guess.
"Happy fucking birthday, Harry Potter," he muttered to himself. Exactly 16 years ago, on his birthday, Hermione Granger had left for an exchange year at an American wizarding school and had disappeared from his life. He hadn't heard from her or seen her since. But the one thing he did remember was that kiss… and those words… He remembered everything about that time.
He let out a sort of anguished grunt and muttered to himself, "But what the hell did she mean?" He stood up to get something to drink, turned around… and jumped three feet into the air. "Oi! RON! How long has your bloody head been sitting in the fire?"
"Long enough," he said with a grin. "So, it's your 32nd birthday, eh, Harry? How do you feel, you old fartbag?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, just shut it, you," he said waving the fire tongs in a threatening way.
"Oi, I didn't mean anything by it, all right, mate? Looks like you're having a bad day and- PUT THOSE TONGS DOWN, DAMMIT. But anyway, I've got just the thing to cheer you up. Okay, are you ready for this? A two-week long trip to America with your fake niece, Shelley!"
Ron and Luna had married right after Luna had graduated. Two years later, they gave birth to a girl, Shelley, who was now 13. Harry wasn't officially her uncle, but that didn't stop Ron and Luna (and Shelley) from referring to him as Uncle Harry, and to Shelley as Harry's "fake niece." Not that Harry minded, of course.
Harry arched one eyebrow. "Honestly, Ron, of all the transparent schemes to get me out of the house…"
Ron shook his head, and Harry imagined he would be waving his hands dismissively if he could've. "Look, you know it's her birthday in a couple of weeks, and we promised we'd take her to America, but we've got this assignment for The Quibbler. So Luna and I figured, who better to take our place then her dear Uncle Harry? She seems to like you more then me anyways."
Harry chuckled. "Come on, Ron, you are her father, and I am only the greatest hunk in all of Wizarding London, as well as the winner of Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Bachelor award 7 years in a row, and I would have gotten more if I had been eligible but you had to be at least 25, and I'm also the Sexiest Man Alive according to Teen Witch and-"
Harry was cut off by Ron chucking a loose rock from his hearth at Harry. "Oi, watch it, you," Harry cried. "You could've taken my head off!"
"Right, well, back on track, then," Ron said, pretending not to hear Harry. "Please, Harry, will you do it? Please? She's been looking forward to this for weeks, Harry!"
Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. "All right, fine, but I'm not paying."
"That's all taken care of," Ron said quite cheerfully. "Lupin's going to take over for you at the Order while you're gone, by the way. You fly out day after tomorrow to Logan International Airport near Boston, and then it's open road from there! You can go wherever you want, just as long as you make sure you're back in two weeks at the airport to fly home. Come on over tomorrow and we'll get everything organized!" Ron's head disappeared with a whoosh, leaving Harry slumped over in his chair, wondering what he had gotten himself into.
»-»-»
Harry was standing at the terminal at Heathrow Airport, waiting patiently for Luna and Ron to finish fawning over Shelley. He took a glance over, seeing Ron grinning broadly at his 13-year-old baby girl and her bright red Weasley Hair (he smiled, remembering how, when she was born, Ron had pumped his fist and shouted "Yesss! The Weasley genes live on!").
"Oi, Ron, hate to disrupt you but they're giving the final boarding call," Harry said to Ron, who was squeezing Shelley so tightly her eyeballs were bugging out.
"Oh, right, sorry," he said, releasing her after giving her one last huge kiss on the forehead. Shelley smiled gratefully at Harry.
"All right, mum, dad, I'll see you in two weeks!" she said, walking over with her carry-on bag to get on the plane.
"Bye, sweetie, and don't forget to write," Luna cried, tears running down her face.
Shelley turned and smiled at her Uncle Harry, who smiled back. "Ready to go, then?" he asked her quietly.
"Beyond," she murmured back, and they both laughed softly and strode onto the plane.
»-»-»
After they had settled down in the smooshy leather seats in first class, Shelley turned to Harry and said, "You know, I had plans for my birthday but this is way, way better."
Harry looked at her and arched one eyebrow. "Your father told me you had been looking forward to this for weeks."
Shelley rolled her eyes. "Silly man, my father. He only told me about it two days ago."
Harry grinned, his thoughts confirmed by the glorious girl sitting beside him. "Interesting, very interesting," he said. "So, Shelley, tell me, how's your life been since I last saw you?"
Shelley told him all sorts of things about her life, but she could tell that he was thinking of other things. "Uncle Harry?"
"Hmm, Shelley?"
"Who's Hermione?"
Harry sucked in his breath sharply. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, it's just that mum and dad sometimes start to talk about her when they don't notice me but when they do they just sort of cut off…"
Harry sighed. Well, why not? It was time to come to terms with it anyway. "Hermione was one of what was sometimes called the 'Golden Trio' at Hogwarts- me, your father, and her. We were all in Gryffindor and we were all inseparable. Then, at the end of her sixth year, she went to America for an exchange year and nobody ever heard from her again… as far as I know, she hasn't even contacted her parents."
"You were in love with her, weren't you?" Shelley said matter-of-factly.
Harry smiled at her. "You know, you're very perceptible. Yes, I think I was in love with her… no, I know I was in love with her. When she left, though, I didn't want to tell her and hold her back. Now I regret not saying anything… but I still recall what she had said to me right before she got on the plane… 'I love you.' And then she kissed me on the mouth and walked onto the plane. She didn't respond to anything I said when I called after her. I have no idea what she meant by it. Did she love me platonically, or did she love me like a woman is supposed to love a man?" He stared off into space for a while, watching the clouds go by.
"How much can you tell me about her? I mean," she added hastily, "if you don't want to talk about her it's fine, but-"
"No," he said, smiling, "it's fine. Well, to start off, she was the most brilliant witch I had ever met, and most likely still is. She's a Muggleborn…" He spent almost an hour telling her everything about Hermione- how he met her, how he befriended her, everything. Shelley just watched with a knowing smile on her face. Oh, yes, her uncle was madly in love with this Hermione, and it sounds like Hermione was in love with her uncle just as much, if not more.
»-»-»
The remainder of the flight was spent in deep conversation between Harry and his "fake niece." They ate the airplane food served without really tasting it, and were surprised when the airplane landed at Logan International Airport near Boston.
"So, Shelley, sweetie, you ready to go?" Harry asked, visibly excited but pretending that he wasn't.
"Get your butt up out of that seat and into the airport. Hurry up! I want to get to America!"
»-»-»
Author's Note: Sequel! Whee! I wrote this when I was still on Ch. 12 of I Miss You, but the idea was floating around in my head. By the way, this is the sequel to I Miss You, in case you're new. You don't have to read it for everything to make sense, but it would be good.
P.S. I LOVE THIS CHAPTER.
P.P.S. Need I remind you that reviews are my food? I feed off them.
--Sara