45. Teatime and Tents
They had gone down a couple of hallways before Harry spoke again, after casting a silencing bubble that would follow them.
"I still use your old name in my head," he admitted, knowing he sounded as guilty as he felt.
He seldom spoke her full name out loud, if he didn't speak about her to someone who might not recognise the name Hermi, or if he introduced her to someone. But no matter how often he said Hermi out loud and reminded himself that she was Hermi and that she had made it clear that Hermione was more or less dead to her, his mind didn't want to give up the name of the girl that had been his second human friend ever. Even if the powerful witch she had become detested the name. It was well over a year ago now that Hermione had told him that she didn't at all feel like Hermione anymore, and that she would prefer him to always use Hermi on her, like he mostly already had done at that point.
He should have gotten used to it by now.
She stopped, turned towards him, and took his face between her hands.
"Harry James Potter, I hereby grant you permission to use my old name in your own head as much as you want. You are very good at not using it out loud and I don't fucking care what goes on in your head, as long I as don't have to hear that bloody name." She let him go and nodded decisively at him before she continued to walk. "I don't want to hear the name, but as I'm not usually in your head, I don't mind if you use it there. It's the name of a silly, little girl that believed everything would work out alright because she was one of the good guys and the good guys always win."
Harry grabbed her hand. "She was brilliant, Hermi, just a bit sheltered, as all children are supposed to be."
"Well, she was bloody wrong, wasn't she!" she snapped, pain and hurt in her voice. He knew, because she had told him, that it was more than just her blind faith as a child and young adult that made her want to sever her connection to her former name, even some of her former self. It went deeper than that, by far. It wasn't only her former name she had a problem with. If it had been, Harry wouldn't have warned Voldemort against using 'Miss' on her.
"I don't know, darling, I don't think this truly is a situation where anyone actually won. I believe everyone lost."
Hermione leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked. Neither spoke until they reached the library.
Harry checked for spells and charms and wards that might record anything of them being in the library, while Hermione put up charms and wards to keep people out and make sure no one and nothing could eavesdrop or see them or in any way observe them. Then they met in the middle of the floor. Harry put his arms around her, and she hugged him hard in return. He felt tears gather and fall from his eyes again and did nothing to prevent it. He could hear her quiet sobs and sniffles, sometimes her shoulders trembled, and all he did was to stroke her back and the back of her head with her wild hair.
It was possible they stood there for as much as an hour, just hugging each other and crying. Just revelling in the fact that they were together again. Revelling in the fact that they were alive, that they had done the impossible and survived the war. Both of them. Both of them had survived and now nothing would come between them again. He knew that. She knew that. Anyone who tried would get the nastiest surprise in a thousand years. Nothing would come between them now. Nothing would tear them apart. Never again.
"I didn't really believe that I would ever see you again," Harry whispered in a thick voice and buried his face in her hair. "I really, really didn't believe it. It almost killed me."
She hugged him harder and then let up. "I had to hope. I refused to lose hope. But Harry … it was so bloody hard sometimes. So bloody hard to not despair. I will never let you go again!"
"Me neither." He hugged her and kissed her head.
Hermione drew her wand, conjured a shaggy green carpet and several big pillows in muted reds and blues, that she dragged Harry down on. She pretty much sat in his lap; face buried against his chest. He just hugged her and stroked her and told her how very, very happy, how very relieved he was that he now would have her in his life again. See her, talk to her, write to her, touch her, hug her, laugh with her and fight with her. She told him the same, right back, again and again. Until they both had cried themselves out and laid down on the big pillows, snuggled as close as they ever had during long, nightmare ridden nights.
"Alright, now I'm ready to hear it," Hermione said hoarsely after a long while in silence. She didn't move to get out of his embrace, so he didn't even think about letting her go. "Which plan did you go with, and how much do Snakefa … Slytherin's new mental status have to do with your choice?"
"His obvious sanity has everything to do with the plan I ended up with. Though, just so we are absolutely clear, Hermi, he might be sane now, but that doesn't mean he is necessarily nice. On the other hand, he does undeniably keep his word when he gives it, at least to me. And he has promised me that you will be safe as long as you don't do anything too stupid, so please, please don't do anything too stupid."
"I won't. I won't risk you like that," she said without hesitation.
"Alright, good, thanks. So … I went with our first plan. I never got the chance to try anything else, really, or maybe it's more accurate to say that I never saw any reason to try anything else, as he was sane and treated me … a lot better than either of us could ever have hoped, even dreamed. It wasn't easy, and it can still be problematic at times … and even now I have to remind myself of the actual situation now and again, but that's more because of trauma, fear and my never-ending supply of suspicion. But the fact is, after we got married, he has never done anything, on purpose, to threaten me, frighten me, harm me or hurt me. He has made a mistake or two, but never anything on purpose.
"It took a long time for me to realise it and to believe it, and as I said, I still have trouble remembering it sometimes, but I … I think, I believe, I'm actually safe, Hermi. I'm actually, truly, safe, and I'm allowed to do pretty much whatever I feel like doing, if it doesn't compromise my safety. And that includes choosing which people I have in my life."
Hermione was hugging the air out of him. "Harry, Harry, Harry …" she whispered. "Even if I won't ever like it, ever like the fact that you sold your bloody freedom for peace, I'm so happy that you are able to have your own peace, and your own life, and that I can be a part of it. I'm never letting you go. I will burn the whole of fucking Britain to the ground before I let you go now, Morgana as my witness!"
"I know, Hermi, I know. Me too." He hugged her back.
It took long minutes, but both was able to calm down again.
"So, incurring Stockholm's Syndrome actually worked as a way to deal with the situation?"
Harry hesitated. "I know that was the bones of the first possible plan for my survival and preferably life, and I know exactly how this will sound, but hear me out …"
"You don't suffer from Stockholm's Syndrome? When you are married to, and living with, the man who killed your parents and the maniac that came close to annihilating all of magical Europe?"
Harry flinched and Hermione hugged him hard again.
"Sorry, sorry, I'm so sorry, Harry. Misfiring filter again. I will shut up and let you talk."
Harry let her hug him and tried to order his thoughts to get his point across, even knowing she might have the right of it, even if he didn't feel like she did.
"I don't think it can be called Stockholm's Syndrome when there hasn't been any abuse and when I willingly placed myself in his power, while I knew, or thought I knew, what that would involve. Everything that's bad and painful and that can be laid at Voldemort's feet, happened before the marriage, before he became sane.
"I have reason, good reason, to believe that if I had just dared to ask about leaving the Manor earlier than I did, I would have been allowed to do so. If I had asked for your company earlier, the answer would most likely have been yes. If I should ask Voldemort to move to a smaller house with me on the other side of the estate, the chances he will say yes are very, very good. If I tell him that I need some time where I only see him when it's absolutely necessary, he will accept that too. I think … I think I might actually have quite a bit of value in his eyes. There have been mistakes and misunderstandings and miscommunications galore, but nothing bad has intentionally been done towards me while I have been here. All my problems with the situation have its source before the marriage. On this I swear."
"I … alright, I see what you mean. If all you say is true … then yes, I can see how Stockholm's Syndrome might not be right. And you are still against blood purity politics and all that rot?"
Harry withdrew a bit from her to look down into her face, and his affronted expression made her smirk.
"Of course I am! What the actual fuck, Hermi!" he added, just to make it absolutely clear.
She giggled. "Alright, alright, stupid question." She sobered. "May I … may I ask how many topics you never talk about with anyone in this house, how many issues you never even think about in fear of making the situation harder? Did you use the notebooks I sent you, the way I told you to do?"
Harry gave a heavy sigh. She knew him too well. But at least she seemed to agree that he hadn't been abused into submission. But then again, part of their plan had been for him to be meek enough not to have to be abused into a mindset that they had suspected Voldemort would demand of him. It was good that Voldemort hadn't demanded any meekness from Harry, because Harry highly suspected he had little to none to give, and the plan would have led to a fast failure.
"Yes, I have begun to use your therapy notebooks. Thank you for them, and the idea," he admitted in a low voice. "I think … I feel that … they might actually help. Not much yet, but …"
"Feel free to tell me whatever you would like to speak about," Hermione said. "It might be even more of a relief than writing about it."
So, Harry told her how enraged he still got every time he saw Malfoy Senior and Greyback. He told her how weird he felt it was that he held no rage whatsoever against Astoria and Draco, even if he knew Astoria personally had killed three of their allies and friends and been behind schemes that had killed a lot more. He told her that he didn't like to think about that, or the fact that on his calm days, he didn't even hate Voldemort anymore, because he knew with absolute certainty that Voldemort had been completely and utterly insane when he did all the horrible acts he had done. He didn't like to think about it because he was afraid that it meant that he truly was the traitor so many of their former allies claimed that he was. He was afraid that he truly had betrayed everyone and everything he had spent his life fighting for.
Suddenly Hermione sat up and looked at the doors. The doors that now were trembling on their hinges.
"I think someone wants to get in," Harry said dryly, and they got up.
Hermione drew her wand and vanished all the pillows and the carpet and Harry removed the locks and wards around the door. The doors slammed open, and Astoria's gaze found him and gave him an angry glare, her ice blue eyes filled with fire.
"Harry James Potter! You cannot just barricade yourself in here!" she announced and stalked through the room towards a corner with a small table and two chairs, the table was filled with parchments scrolls, quills and books. She glared at Harry all the while. "Not without any way of making contact! You even set up wards against house elves, you … you dolt!" She snatched up several rolls of parchment from the little table and waved them towards him. "Now I'm late to a meeting! And it's your fault!" She stalked towards the door again, blue robe fluttering around her. "I hate you!" she hurled over her shoulder.
"I hate you too!" Harry called after her with a grin that almost split his face.
"Fuck off, Potter! And remember to eat something, lunch was an hour ago!" She slammed the doors shut behind her.
Harry grinned so much it almost hurt his face and when he looked down at Hermione again, she raised an eyebrow at him.
"You like her," she accused mildly, without any heat whatsoever.
"More and more for every week that passes," Harry admitted. "It's incredibly hard not to like Astoria Malfoy. Give her a chance and see for yourself. But damn, I have been three-named twice in one day, that can't be good."
Hermione snickered. "So, what about lunch? She was right, we should eat something."
"Right. Let me introduce you to an old friend. Dobby!"
Hermione and Dobby had a little reunion and while Hermione probably never would like the fact that house elves were bound to families, she didn't try to discuss it with either Dobby or Harry right at that moment. That more than anything told Harry how very much she had missed him.
Dobby made a delicious lunch for them and even brought them some cake afterwards and then Harry and Hermione began to search through the library for books for an Extension Charm that would work on their old tent. They were still doing that when Harry's wand made a chiming sound to remind them that they were supposed to drink tea with Voldemort, Astoria and Draco.
Their tea table in the conservatory was set up as it usually was, but between Harry's green wingback chair and Astoria's purple one, there was a new silver-grey chair that Hermione sat down in when Harry gestured at it. She looked around in the conservatory, at the trees and plants and the lights in the bushes before she looked back at the table and the people around it.
"I apologise for my rather abrupt interruption of your time earlier today," Astoria said and handed Hermione a filled teacup, after giving one to Voldemort and Harry. "I was … stressed and would usually never behave like that. I'm Astoria Malfoy and I'm very happy to meet you under peaceful circumstances."
"Hermione Granger, and I'm not good enough of a liar to try to say something similar to your face, so I'm going with: I'm pleased I don't have to fight you anymore." She took the cup from Astoria and checked it for anything nefarious with a silent and wandless spell, probably without thinking. Astoria frowned, but didn't say anything. The frown was gone before Hermione looked at her again.
"However, I'm genuinely happy that Harry likes you, and that's no lie," Hermione concluded, before looking at Draco and gave him a nod. "Malfoy."
Draco toasted her with his teacup and smirked. "Not even going to try and say, 'nice to meet you', Granger?"
"As I said, I'm not good enough of a liar. Or maybe I just don't care enough to try. But if you don't disparage or harm me, I won't kill you."
"Hermi," Harry said mildly while he doctored his tea.
"What? I said I would not kill him, how is that wrong?"
"We generally do not talk about killing people at tea. We wait until after-dinner drinks for that kind of conversation. Even if it is about who we will not kill," Voldemort stated.
"Huh." Hermione blinked, then frowned and looked at Harry. "Did Slytherin … did he just make a joke?"
Harry smiled at her. "It happens. But I think he just used up his quota for the week, so don't expect it to happen again any time soon." Out of the corner of his eye Harry could see Voldemort send a look skywards before drinking his tea.
"Fair enough, I guess," Hermione said and served herself some of the meringue and berry cake when Harry handed her the tray. "I can never get this bugger right," she said and put a forkful of cake in her mouth before closing her eyes in bliss and licked her lips. "Perfect, Harry, as always."
"Glad you approve."
"If I may ask, what did you research when you barricaded yourself in the library?" Astoria asked.
"Extension Charms, specifically one that can work on our old tent," Harry answered, as Hermione had her mouth full of cake. "The old charm got ripped apart and everything we have tried so far has had some kind of serious drawback. I suspect Hermi has the right of it; the exact charm that works on tents is probably a trade secret." He looked at Hermione. "Take some of the gold and buy a new one."
"Why is this tent so important, you don't have to live in hiding anymore?" Astoria asked. "I know for a fact that you have your official pardon, Miss … Apologies, Granger," she corrected herself.
Harry noted that Voldemort must have told Astoria and Draco about Hermione's abhorrence towards the title 'Miss'. He appreciated that, because he had completely forgotten to mention it.
Hermione nodded at her, then she grimaced. "First, there is this." She twirled finger to encompass her face. "The only way to make me look passably … ordinary, I guess, is with heavy use of both glamour, magical make-up and non-magical make-up and the use of dark glasses for my eye. There might be a kind of glamour out there that can hide all my curse scars completely, but I haven't found it yet. And people definitely do not like it when I don't try to hide my scars, and I'm never going to use that much energy and care on my looks, every single day, just to appease a bunch of arseholes who can't keep their ugly mouths shut about how other people look."
Astoria's mouth had drawn into a thin line.
"Then there are your people," Hermione made a gesture at Astoria, Draco and Voldemort, "who simply can't shut up about the fact that I fought them, you, that I'm on the losing side, yada yada yada. I can deal with that fact, but I don't appreciate it being pushed violently in my face every time I go out among people, and the … terms … they use on me are very far from nice. I believe I have heard it all, by now. At least I'm literally washing the word 'Mudblood' out of the collective vocabulary," she added gleefully.
Draco snorted and hurriedly sat his cup down before he began laughing in earnest. Harry watched him in astonishment as Astoria just shook her head at her husband. Voldemort didn't even blink, when Harry looked questioningly at him.
"It's you!" Draco laughed, drying actual tears from his eyes. "Of course, it's you! I bloody well should have known!"
"Care to share?" Harry asked Hermione, when it became clear that Draco wasn't able to speak.
"Hmm?" Hermione blinked innocently at him. She didn't fool him at all.
Astoria huffed. "The last three months or so, more and more people from our faction have found themselves under a strange kind of curse. Every time they try to use that nasty word, their mouths fill with soap suds. It lasts for about five minutes and then disappear, until they try to use the word again."
Harry watched Hermione worriedly. "Doesn't that break the law and the pardon?"
"It's just soap," Astoria reassured, "and not enough to be poisonous or harmful. It's like a prank spell at the worst. The only reason I call it a curse is that it's very hard to put an end to, and that it has a somewhat negative, but really not dangerous, impact on the targets. We have been able to break the curse on a few people, but it takes much work, and the curse isn't harmful and the word will be banned anyway, so now those that have gotten cursed will have to get rid of it on their own."
"You will forbid a word?" Harry asked, interested. "That specific word?"
"Yes, it's obviously," she made a gesture at Hermione, "used to upset people, and only to upset people. And the use of the word puts people very firmly in boxes, 'us' vs. 'them', and we need to put a stop to it before it gets truly ugly. It's kind of the same as with the word Muggle. While we won't ban it, it will be phased out and the term non-magical will be used instead."
"I have noticed. Are you going to shorten the term?" In fact, Harry was quite certain that it was the Light faction that had begun to use 'non-magical' at some point during the war. He didn't mind at all that it would be more common. The word Muggle now held a negative undertone in his mind, and the mind of many others, just as Mudblood did.
"What would you suggest, Harry?" Voldemort asked.
Harry looked at him and then at Hermione, he raised an eyebrow.
"Nonmagi?"
"Nonmag?" she answered.
"Nmagic?"
She shook her head. "Nomag?"
"Nomagi?"
Hermione tilted her head in thought before she nodded. "That works. Nomagi. It's obvious, easy and has no old connotation to struggle with."
"Non-magicals are Nomagi," Astoria slowly said, trying it out. "That could work. My Lord?"
Voldemort nodded slowly. "Granger is right. People may choose if they prefer to use non-magical or Nomagi, but one of the two should be highly favoured. Spread the word and let Muggle be phased out, not everything has to be official."
"But Mudblood will still be banned?" Astoria checked.
"Yes, evidently it is required to do that officially, as I have three recent reports about episodes where major curses have been thrown in anger because of that word. Your method is vastly preferable, Granger." Voldemort looked at her. "Succinct, efficient and to the point."
"You are welcome," Hermione said and continued in her gleeful tone. "As I said, I'm washing the vocabulary clean, one bigot at the time." Then her tone turned tired and sad. "Of course, that doesn't actually solve a bloody thing, for my part. I tried to help with building the new public library in Hogsmeade, as that naturally is very close to my heart. And while I'm not you, Harry, I have a lot of power and I do know enough to make solid walls, nice floors and stuff like shelves and tables … Anyway, I was told, in no uncertain terms, that I was making people uncomfortable with my presence and that I had to leave. As if I'm the only one who has scars. There were at least two other people there that were almost as bad as me.
"Then, of course, there are our lovely former allies …" Hermione looked at him and Harry could feel his heart sink in his chest. Because he knew what some of their former allies thought of him, and there was a reason they now were 'former'. Naturally, they would have something to say to Hermione too.
"There is: 'How can you call yourself his friend and let him marry that monster?' and 'You should have killed him before letting him turn traitor!' and 'You disgusting piece of shit, go tell him to do his job!' and well, a lot of name-calling and general harassment. Like we are still in school, really.
"It doesn't apply to everyone, from either side, obviously, but it's enough to be exhausting. More than enough for me to want to live in a tent in the forest instead of risk having a neighbour with any of those kinds of views." She paused and looked at Harry and very much at no one else. "Honestly, on … on bad days I'm still far too curse happy to be healthy to be around for idiots like that. Seclusion is better, all around."
Harry took Hermione's hand, and she squeezed him while no one spoke for long moments.
"I have a functional tent," Astoria said in a low voice. "It's not big, but you are welcome to it. I don't want to use it ever again, anyway." She swallowed and looked at Hermione. "There is some blood on the floor, and you will have to clean it up and air it out, but the charms on it should work perfectly and Harry is probably able to turn the tent into a small palace if you ask him …"
Hermione looked at Harry.
"If Astoria offers it, then the offer is real," he said.
Astoria nodded but looked down and Draco took her hand, she put her other hand on top of his. "I don't want the tent back. I don't know why I have kept it this long … The memories … My sister … she died in that tent … I don't ever want it back."
"Alright. Thank you," Hermione said in a soft voice. "It is appreciated. And I'm truly sorry for your loss."
Astoria looked up, surprised, her eyes bright with unshed tears. Then she swallowed hard and nodded sharply. "Thank you." She blinked several times and Harry could see her gather herself again. "Harassment is in fact illegal. You should absolutely report it if it continues."
"I will consider it. The soap suds-curse only lasts a year, just for your information."
"Good to know."
The two witches nodded to each other, and Harry knew, deep in his bones, that before this new year was up, Hermione would like and appreciate Astoria almost as much as he did.
After tea, Prim found Astoria's old tent and gave it to Harry and Hermione who put it up on the beach and opened doors and windows to air it out, helped with spells to displace air and make the air smell fresh. Harry tossed three different spells on the blood that coated the floor and had arched up one wall, while refusing to think about the young, blonde girl he vaguely remembered from his school days. The girl that years later had bled out in this tent, taking the last of Astoria's family with her.
All the blood vanished without a trace and Harry turned towards Hermione.
"Now, how do you want your new home?"
"This looks fine just as it is," Hermione said while looking at the shared kitchen and living room area. There were also two small bedrooms and a bath with both a shower and a bathtub, which was an improvement from their old tent. The whole tent was newer than theirs had been.
"Come on, I have decorated the homes of half of magical Britain by now, let me make you your dream home, even if it's only temporary."
Hermione smiled at him and bit her lip. "I do still want my very own library, even if it's small."
Harry grinned. "That I can do."
The biggest bedroom became a library with a reading corner and a small table in the middle of the room for taking notes at. The walls were filled with shelves that were five-in-one. After Harry had made the shelves, Hermione had spelled them so she could fill each shelf five times and browse through the different shelves with taps of her wand. They did it on all the shelves so even if the room was small, the number of books it could hold was quite large. The colour on the walls was a deep crimson, the floor was almost black hardwood, and the plush carpet and comfortable furniture was in dark green and blue. Harry had made magical lights hanging down from the top of the shelves, since Hermione wanted the walls completely filled with books. It was a warm and inviting room and Harry suspected that Hermione would use this room more than any other, bar her bedroom, maybe.
The bedroom was simple with pale blue walls, the same hardwood floor as the library. White furniture and a deep blue carpet and quilt. Airy and calm, and as simple as Hermione could force Harry to make it. But by then he had finally worn her down, and the bathroom was quite opulent when Harry was done with it. He enjoyed the fact that Hermione wanted to spoil herself this much, because she had asked specifically for the floor, walls and bathtub to be made of black marble shot with gold and for the taps, towel racks and other details, as well as all the sconces on the walls, to be golden.
Harry promised to find her new towels and bed linens later, but for now Dobby took all she had and cleaned everything as well as only house elves can, and then Harry changed the colour of the towels and washcloths to a deep gold and all the linen to a pale blue or a crisp white. He could conjure something that was more than just satisfactory and that would last for years, but one would always feel the difference of something made and something conjured, and because Hermione obviously wanted her bathroom to be something special, even if it was small, Harry wanted her to have new, fluffy towels and real, crisp white bed linens.
The kitchen and living room area was an extension of the library in colours and design with the crimson walls, comfortable furniture and soft, plush carpets. It was cosy and homely, and Harry could easily see Hermione enjoying herself by the small wood stove on late nights. Maybe he could join her now and again, especially if she put the tent up on the Manor's estate. And at some point, Voldemort would be alright with Hermione spending the night in their wing. Harry didn't know if Hermione would be comfortable with spending the night at the same point in time, but sometime in the future … It should be possible.
"This looks … very, very good," Hermione said and spun around, taking in the kitchen and living room area. "Thank you, Harry." She hugged him hard.
"You are very welcome." He hugged her back.
"Now, what about a proper duel before dinner?" she grinned up at him.
"It's like you read my mind." They stepped out of the tent and Hermione packed it back up with a few swipes of her wand. "I have mostly kept to the duelling cards for months now. I was afraid that some stupid flash-back would set me of if I duelled anyone who lives here."
"Then it's good that I came along then, wasn't it? Best not to let you get too rusty, huh?"
"It was absolutely perfect, Hermi, absolutely perfect." Harry kissed her hair, and they went back to the Manor so he could show her the duelling room.
A/N:
Real life has now caught up with me and I will have to post the chapters every other week, instead of every week. For this I am truly, truly sorry to everyone who looks forwards to the updates. But to be honest, I am amazed that I have been able to keep up with the story for so long. One chapter, every week, for months, while keeping up with everything in my life. No matter how much I love writing, it does take time. If I get ahead during a vacation, I might begin to post every week again, but for now; every other week it is, Tuesday or Wednesday or Thursday, depending on when I have time. I hope I don't lose any of you because of this.
Thank you so much for reading and for the comments, the favs and the follows! They are much appreciated! I love to read what you think about the story and the characters! It makes writing this story even more fun! Each and every comment makes me smile!
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