Learning To Breathe Again
Summary: Eleven years after the Second War has ended Harry revisits the events of the night that brought Lord Voldemort's rule to an end and took the life of Ron. Events take their course as they lead Harry to Hermione again. After losing contact with her for eleven years he tries to make things right and together they begin to cope with Ron's passing. Together they learn to breathe again.
a/n: Hi :) Well, here's the second chapter to the story, I've already written a few so the rest of the story should come along fairly quickly...or so I hope :) Well, I hope you all enjoy this chapter and as always reviews ;) , constructive criticism and ideas are always welcome!
"I'm learning to breathe ... I'm learning to crawl..."
Chapter Two
Harry had barely been surviving on his parents dwindling fortune for the past eleven years. Never fulfilling his dream of being an Auror he was unemployed. The following week he decided maybe he was ready to reenter the magical world once more. Despite the fact that the small fortune his parents had left behind was nearly non-existent, as he had spent most of it during his years at Hogwarts, he felt something pulling at him to get back in touch with the world. Since his breakdown the previous week Harry had begun to think. To think about past relationships, friendships that he had left behind, the people that he had let slip away from him. He couldn't bare the thought of him never seeing Hermione again. She had been his best friend, now his only friend. If she would still consider him to be even that much.
He left his house early that morning, apparating into Diagon Alley. Walking towards The Leaky Cauldron, he pushed some of his hair over his scar, he wasn't quite ready for a lot of attention. Upon opening the doors, Harry felt memories come back to him. He had been here so many years before ... everything. He walked up to the bar with as much confidence as he could muster.
"Hello, I'm looking for an application? I noticed your sign out front." Harry turned his head slightly towards the door.
The old man at the bar grunted and disappeared behind a curtain on the other side of the bar. Slowly he returned with a slip of yellowed paper. Apparently the needed someone for a job that hadn't been fulfilled in a while. "Here." He slid the paper across the bar to Harry and handed him a pen.
"Thanks." Harry replied, turning to a unsteady table to fill out the form.
He looked down at the form, the first requirement...Applicants Name. Harry swallowed and thought about what to do. He knew that if he put his real name the Daily Prophet along with the whole of the magical community would have a field day. The defeater of Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, returns after eleven years of solitude. The infamous Harry Potter! The Boy-Who-Lived... working part-time at the prestigious Leaky Cauldron. He frowned at the thought and scrawled James Evans at the top. Using both of his parents names seemed to be the best way to go.
Harry encountered more obstacles during the completion of his application, many lies were told. He wasn't worried though, this was only the beginning of his comeback. This wasn't meant to be his job forever. At least he hoped. Sighing 30 minutes later he handed his application to the man behind the bar who glanced over the form briefly and grunted, "Welcome to the workforce of the Leaky Cauldron James. You're needed out back." He stuck his thumb over his shoulder beyond the curtain.
Harry nodded and walked behind the bar and through the curtain where he saw men loading boxes off a truck. He joined in the assembly line helping them put the boxes into the storage room. "Hello... I'm H- er... James Evans... I've just been hired." He said proudly to the man beside him.
"What's so great about it?" The man looked at Harry oddly. "I've been workin here for twenty years.. the feelin'll wear off soon enough lad." said the man who later introduced himself as Herb, a Scottish man who lived in the inn above.
Harry quickly returned to work, not saying much else to the disgruntled men around him. He worked unloading heavy boxes until noon where he had a twenty minute lunch break that consisted of lukewarm soup from the kitchens and stale bread. As he finished off his butterbeer he reluctantly stood and got orders for his next task which was to wipe down the tables and "tend to the bar".
He began with the tables, wiping the dusty surfaces until he saw the battered wood beneath. He went around to each empty table buffing and polishing them until they were all spotless. He then moved behind the bar and began to wipe it down as well. Through out the day various witches and wizards came in and out ordering sandwiches, soups and drinks, which Harry ended up cleaning behind them. Mysteriously Herb and the others were all on brake.
Relief finally came when Harry was told to go home at six-o'clock. He gladly took off his apron and left The Leaky Cauldron as Tom, the bar tender, grumbled about something in the distance. Harry rubbed at his eyes as he exited the dark inn onto the busy streets of Diagon Alley. He turned a corner which put him at the back entrance of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He looked up at the massive building that was disguised as Purge and Dowse Ltd. to any Muggle eye, and sighed he remembered the time that he had been here last. Ron had been alive then...
He turned his eyes away from the building as he heard some healers walking out of the side door apparently taking a smoke brake. He glanced at them and for a moment he thought he saw a familiar bushy haired friend... his heart almost leapt out of his chest. He closed his mouth as the girl turned her face toward him. It wasn't her. He turned and began to walk away back towards the main street.
"Good night then girls, see you Monday." He heard as the side door closed again. He stopped as he heard heels clicking the cobble stone street underneath. Turning his head slightly he could see her out of the corner of his green eyes. He drew in a deep breath as she passed him. It couldn't be. He shook his head slightly as he watched her turn the corner. He slowly began to follow her, still not quite believing what he just saw.
Hurrying after Hermione, Harry tried to stay inconspicuously behind her. He followed her for two blocks and stood along the corner as he watched her go into her small house. Harry inhaled deeply as he strode across the street and knocked on her door. He waited nervously, he heard a bump inside he leaned in closer to the door to get a better listen. The door quickly swung open, Harry straightened. Hermione looked up at him, she had taken off her heels and her hair was half out of her healer's cap. Harry was silent as he watched the emotions changing on her face, from joy to sadness from sadness to fear from fear to anger.
Harry took a step closer to her, she backed away. "Hermione..." He said softly.
Her eyes filled with tears as she searched his face. "Eleven years..."
He took another step towards her, she put her hands on his chest to block herself. He embraced her holding her tightly to him, she beat her hands upon his chest. "Get away from me!" she cried. He held on to her anyway, his arms were sore from the boxes, she beat her hands against them. She cried against him pushing him away like he had done her. He put his hands on her face and soothingly told her, "I'm sorry Hermione...I'm so sorry." His fingers became wet as she cried and tried to push him away. "Get away from me..." she cried softly giving into his embrace. Her tears soaked into his shirt, he could feel them on his skin.
Harry stroked her long hair lightly as she continued to cry. He understood, she hated him. She hated him for leaving her alone with her grief for eleven years, but she needed him now just like she had needed him then. They were the only ones who got it. They were the only ones who understood.