Anywhere but in Between
I only own the plot
The reviews for the last chapter were absolutely wonderful. They have inspired me and as I read them, hundreds of ideas where this story is going came into my mind…that is the highest form of compliment I can give to you, my faithful readers. Thank you for that.
Please keep reading. I promise that there is some really good stuff coming up. It is all fighting to get out first in the story, so we'll see where it goes off to!
This will be a short chapter, sort of a bridge between what has happened and what will happen coming up. It is needed for my own sanity, to kind of bring closure to a couple of things going on inside my head. The next chapter will be the big one, the wedding, so consider this a bit of a bridge to cross.
Chapter 15 – What Came Next
Harry found himself walking down the darkened street of Privet Drive. All of the houses on the quiet, tree lined street were abandoned, no light shining out through the perfectly polished windows. Every so often, he could hear a dog or a cat in the distance, but other than that, the night air was silent.
He stopped at number 4, and he was surprised to see a candle flickering through the kitchen windows. He walked up to the ledge, feeling the late evening dew upon the ankles of his jeans.
What he saw inside he knew was not real, and in that instant, he awoke.
He sat upright in the bed Mr. Weasley had placed in Ron's room for him. He rubbed at his eyes with the palms of his hands, and felt the moisture upon his forehead. He took a deep breath, assuring himself once again that it was only a dream.
He'd gotten exceptionally good at that over the years, and he felt better in a matter of minutes. He swung his legs off the bed, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness before he made his way to the door. He didn't worry about waking Ron. He was pretty sure that his best friend hadn't changed that much in his absence.
When he reached the bathroom, he saw a slight movement out of the corner of his eye and his heart began hammering crazily in his chest. He took a step forward to be able to see more clearly, and found Hermione sitting on the top step of the second floor landing.
"You scared me half to death," he whispered, sitting next to her. "What are you doing up?"
"Couldn't sleep," she whispered back. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, and she looked very small. "What about you?"
"Same," he said, nodding toward the stairs. "Do you want to go get something to drink? I don't want to wake anyone else up."
She shrugged noncommittally, but got up all the same. Harry considered her as they made their way down the stairs. She had been so quiet all through dinner and had said a very quick goodnight to him after she and Ron had come inside that night.
He knew that she was probably dying to ask him why he had left, and why it had taken him so long to return, but she was being very patient with him under the circumstances. He felt horrible knowing that he was causing her this confusion, and he promised himself to clear things up with her as quickly as possible.
Ron, he knew, would understand in his own time. They had always been like that, ever since they were fourteen. Able to read each other well enough to know that things would work themselves out when they did.
When they reached the kitchen, Harry poured a glass of water and handed it to Hermione. She accepted it wordlessly, seating herself at the table. He poured himself a glass and joined her.
"So why couldn't you sleep?" he asked, studying her face in the low light. She shrugged again, tapping her fingers against the glass in front of her.
"Just thinking too much, as always," she said finally, her voice short and curt.
"Ah," he said, taking a sip of his water. He wanted to explain things to her, and it seemed like it would have to be now. She was obviously angry with him, and he couldn't stand to be the cause of the hurt and frustration in her eyes.
"Listen, Hermione," he started, pushing his glass away from him and leaning on his elbows, "I think I owe you some answers, and I want to clear stuff up with you."
She didn't look at him, having moved on to playing with the stray strings on the placemats. All of her attention seemed focused on them, and when she didn't speak, he figured she was ready to hear what he had to say.
"When I left, I should have said my goodbyes, but it was just too hard. I didn't have any answers for anyone then, and it would have hurt everyone more if I couldn't explain myself to them," he said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. She still wasn't looking at him, and it bothered him that he couldn't see what she was thinking.
"I left because I was really messed up about everything that happened, and I was feeling suffocated. Everywhere I looked, there were reminders of what had happened, and I couldn't handle it. I wish I could have been stronger, but I wasn't, and I didn't want to poison everyone else with what was going on inside my head. I wasn't fit to be around anyone, and I didn't want people thinking that there was something they could do, or something they could say to make everything better. I just needed some time," he explained.
Hermione remained quiet, although she raised her eyes to his. In their depths, Harry could see how much he had hurt her by going away, and how angry she was at his excuses. He didn't know how to make her understand. It had killed him to leave his friends, his family, behind, but it was all he could think to do at the time to protect them.
"If you really went away to spare us all that pain," she said, her voice low and even, "then why didn't you respond when we wrote and asked how you were? Don't you think that more than two sentences was called for after you just picked up and left?"
He gripped his glass between his hands. He had wanted to write so badly, but every time he put a quill to parchment, nothing would come out. He hadn't known how to let them know that he was alright without lying to them at first, then after time had passed, he had been ashamed.
"I can't explain it any better than this," he said, looking at her helplessly. "I was not in a place to be around people, and the only way I could think of to spare you all was to remove myself from things until I was."
"Didn't it occur to you that we would worry about you anyway? That we would all be here, at home, waiting for some sign that you were alright? I don't think a day went by for about a year that I didn't think about you, and where you were, whether or not you were happy or safe, or…" she trailed off helplessly.
"When I wrote and told you that I was fine, that was about all I could write without lying. I was fine, physically. If I had written you about the other stuff, it would have worried you too much. And that was exactly what I didn't want. I wanted everyone to move on with things," he explained emphatically.
She narrowed her eyes at him, and he felt like he was fifteen again, being reprimanded for not studying hard enough for his O.W.L.S. "You weren't the only one who fought, Harry. I know you were in the room with Dumbledore and Voldemort, but so was Ginny, and she had to deal with those memories and another year of school. Ron and I saw at least a dozen people die at the hands of the Death Eaters that invaded the Ministry. You weren't the only one who saw things you wish you hadn't."
He didn't say anything for a long moment, and they simply stared at one another. The anger was fading from Hermione's eyes, but it was replaced with something that hurt Harry even more. She was disappointed in him.
"Do you want to know what woke me up?" he asked, his voice barely audible in the silent room.
She kept her eyes trained on his, and he continued. "In my dream, I was walking down Privet Drive, and I looked into the Dursleys' kitchen window. There was a long table all set, and my parents were there. Right next to them was Sirius, and Dumbledore was standing off to the side. The longer I watched, the more people joined the table. Percy, Cedric, Fudge, all the students that were attacked from Hogwarts…they were all just sitting there, staring back at me as I looked through the window."
She considered him carefully, her lips tightly pressed together. Then, she leaned toward him. "I have news for you, Harry Potter. You are not the only one who lost those people. I have always felt so sorry for you that you had to grow up without your parents, but those other people were loved by so many others. You have no right to selfishly horde their deaths as if they are your losses alone."
He reeled back as though she had physically slapped him, feeling the words cut through him like a knife. He wanted to be angry with her. He wanted to shout at her that she had no idea what it was like to have seen so much death.
But as the words boiled up in his throat, one thought coursed through his brain.
She was right.
He hadn't been the only one to lose someone he cared about. In his mind, however, he'd convinced himself that because he was the only one who could fulfill the prophecy Trelawney had made over twenty years ago, he was the only one with anything to lose. He had been, as she said, selfish and wrong, and now he felt worse than ever.
He sat across from her in silence, his eyes focused on the glass between his hands.
"Harry," she said quietly, her voice shaking slightly. He couldn't look at her. His throat was thick with thick with shame.
"Please, look at me," she said, her hand moving across the table, pausing just before touching his. He raised his eyes to her slowly, afraid she'd see the shame he felt.
"I am so unbelievably happy that you came back," she said softly. "You have no idea how much I wanted you home with us. I didn't say those things to make you feel badly. I have just wanted to say them for so long, that I couldn't stop myself anymore. Now, I feel like everything is out on the table with us."
"Are you angry?" he asked, and her hand moved to cover his. She smiled at him, no trace of her previous anger in her face any longer.
"I was at first, but now that I've gotten all that off my chest, I feel better. Besides, I just yelled at you on the night of your homecoming. It would be pretty hypocritical of me to be angry with you, don't you think?" she asked, squeezing his hand tightly.
"No, especially because you were right," he said. "I want you to promise me something. If I ever get that blinded again, I want you to tell me. Immediately."
She laughed quietly, and nodded. "Deal."
They left the kitchen together, climbing the stairs to Ginny's room. At the door, Hermione pulled Harry into a tight hug, which he accepted gladly. He felt that they had come to an understanding that was a long time coming, and he felt closer to her because of it.
"Thanks, Hermione," he said quietly as she released him.
"Welcome back, Harry," she said, equally as quiet, before turning and gently opening the door to Ginny's room. Harry caught a quick glimpse of Ginny nestled under her covers, curled up on her side like a little girl. Her hair was splayed out on her pillow, and he found that he couldn't look away. His stomach twisted painfully as he watched her pull the covers tighter around her at the sound of the door.
Hermione gave him one last smile before she closed the door, and Harry made his way back up to Ron's room. He felt, for the first time in a long time, like he would actually get a good night's sleep.
"And that's why Angelina left when she did," said George conspiratorially, leaning toward Ron and Harry from behind the counter.
Ron grimaced, then spotting the horrified look on Harry's face, he burst out laughing.
"Seriously, though," George said, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "It's good to have you back, Harry."
Harry didn't respond, but his face relaxed into a more natural look. Ron smiled to himself. Sharing something so trivial with him, laughing as they always did over the twins' antics, made him realize how much he'd missed his best mate.
They were in Diagon Alley with Ginny and Hermione, on orders from his mother. Ginny had to pick up her dress robes for the wedding, and Ron had been instructed to see to it that the twins had their appropriate attire for Tuesday.
Fred approached the counter, and George hurriedly changed the subject. Ron laughed as he watched Harry try and meet Fred's eye, and fail miserably. Fred shot him a look, and he shut his mouth.
"Where are the girls?" Fred asked, looking around the shop.
Harry snorted, and George grinned wickedly at his twin. He opened his mouth to say something, but dissolved into laughter before he could get a single word out.
Just then, the bell over the entrance jingled, and Lee Jordan came into the shop. He walked over to the counter, and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Harry standing behind the twins.
"What the –" he stammered, pushing Fred out of the way for a clearer view. Ron held his breath, knowing that Harry could take this one of two ways. Lee was the first person outside his family that he had seen yet, and even though Harry was fond of Lee, Ron wasn't sure if Harry was ready to explain to anyone else where he'd been.
Apparently, he didn't have to worry. Lee fixed a calm look on his face and extended his hand to Harry, who shook it gladly.
"Good to see you back, mate," Lee said, clapping him on the shoulder. "It's been dull around here without you."
"Thanks," Harry said, smiling. "But I'm not so sure dull is a bad thing."
"Hey, I just saw Ginny and Hermione coming down the street," Lee said, perching himself on the counter. "Is this going to be an honest to goodness Hogwarts reunion?"
"Looks that way," replied Fred, gesturing toward the door. Ginny and Hermione entered, laughing and moving their bags out of exiting customers' way.
"Hey," Ginny said, approaching the group and placing her bags on the counter next to Lee. Her eyes were dancing merrily, and Ron wondered what the two of them had been talking about. He looked over at Hermione, who was hiding a grin as best she could. She laid her own bag on the floor next to her feet and rolled her shoulders.
"You bought something too?" Ron asked, looking down at the bag.
"Well, I needed new dress robes anyway for benefits and stuff, so I figured, why not?" she asked, shooting Ginny a look. Ginny laughed and turned to Lee, who had taken up her hand in his.
Ron saw Lee make a big show of kissing her hand, telling her how wonderful it was to see her again. Ginny rolled her eyes at him and swatted his lips away with her other hand.
"I'm going to leave these here while I go and pick up Fleur's shoes," she said to her brothers. "Do you guys need me to get anything while I'm out?"
George looked into her bag, and then grinned at his twin. "Fred, you want her to pick up one of these for you too?" he asked, lifting a sleeve of the sparkling grey dress out of the bag.
Ron and Harry laughed, watching Fred's face flush crimson before he lunged for George. As George dodged in the opposite direction, Ginny and Hermione gave them all odd looks and left the shop.
Ginny listened attentively as Hermione told her all about her and Harry's midnight conversation in the kitchen. She was amazed that Hermione had finally gotten the courage to tell Harry what she'd wanted to tell him for years.
"It felt so good to get it all out there," Hermione admitted as they walked down the street to the shoe store. "And I have to say, I'm glad that he didn't bite my head off. I don't think I would have been able to handle it with the mood I was in last night."
"You know, if it weren't for the scene we just left, I'd have to say that our boys are finally growing up," Ginny commented lightly, thinking how different both Harry and Ron were now that they were older. In the past, Harry would have stormed away from Hermione, and given her the silent treatment for a few days before just forgetting about it completely.
"I know," said Hermione with a small smile. "Sometimes it scares me just how much your brother has matured."
She gave Hermione a look out of the corner of her eye before stopping completely in the road. "Okay, I have to ask you. Are you going to dump Terry any time soon and just snog my brother already?"
Hermione's face flushed, but she did not avert her eyes. Ginny took it as a positive sign.
"Terry is my boyfriend, and he cares about me very much," Hermione reasoned. "And I care about him."
"Fine," Ginny responded with a wave of her hand. "But caring about him isn't the same as being in love with him. Are you in love with him?"
"I don't know. It's only been three months. How do you know if you're in love with someone after only three months?" Hermione asked, sounding very confused.
"I was always under the assumption that you just knew," she replied, thinking of what Bill had told her about falling in love with Fleur. He had said that the day that he knew it, it was like a curtain had lifted that didn't allow him to look at her in the same way. There had been no doubts, no turning back. She sighed, wondering if that's how it would be for her, if it ever happened.
Hermione looked at her skeptically. "I think that's a bunch of romantic fluff. That's why they call it falling in love. It takes time to know a person that well, don't you think?"
Ginny smirked at her. "Well, what if you already know the person that well? What then?"
Hermione didn't reply as they continued on toward the store. Ginny felt like pressing the issue, but judging from the look on Hermione's face, the conversation wasn't going to go far.
"So, the purchase of those gorgeous dress robes was solely for Terry's benefit?" she asked, knowing full well that they weren't. When they'd left the dress shop, Hermione had made a comment about how Ron probably wouldn't recognize her, just like he hadn't in their fourth year when they'd attended the Yule Ball.
Hermione glared at her as they entered the shoe store. "You are evil, you know that?" she said.
"Yup, but that comes with the territory when you grow up in the Weasley household," she shot back, grinning at her.
More to come, I promise. This needed to be done to show the next day after the return home, and I felt it necessary. Next up, the wedding.