In the end, they all went their separate ways. The guilt of killing so many finally caught up to Harry, catching him in its iron grip and taking him to a place it seemed no one could relieve him of. One night, he up and disappeared, without a goodbye to anyone. Ron and Hermione spent a night of tears and agony in a painful break up, agreeing that their relationship brought up too many memories, too much pain, Ron saying he needed to escape and Hermione needing to get away and make new memories, remake herself. Ginny moved in with her twin-less brother George, to keep each other company in their desolate loneliness. Neville seemed far more broken than anyone else but Harry, with the loss of his gran and friends, and later found him self falling for Jane Dickens.
However, a letter will change all of that. An invitation to a week long reunion will bring them all together again. Together to relive memories, to reminisce, to rekindle friendship, to deteriorate some, and for others, to change themselves completely. History has been made, the past is the past. But the future remains unwritten, for them to fill out.
"Every now and then we need to face what we most fear. The past is catching
up to me, I'm afraid, and I'm terrified to look it in its eye, to relive it, to remember it."
Hermione Granger
Told in alternating points of view, this is a tale of distance, memories, pain and heartache, love and friendship, and learning to heal and open your self up.
chapter one
The desk was cluttered in an oddly organized way, leading one to believe its occupant was a pack rat, unless, of course, you knew the occupant. Then you'd know that as terrifying the mess looked now, by the end of the day, be it five, six, or even one-thirty, the desk would be completely clear, not even a speck of dust coating it. It was merely the job of her and as catastrophic the mess looked, she loved it entirely. The challenge and the chaos, the way it made her mind whirl and blur until nearly no comprehensive thought could be made thrilled her, filled her with a sense of entirety and worth.
The purple papers went into the second basket and the pale green into the seventh basket. Lavender were directed to the sixth basket, orange to the ninth, blue into the third, and yellow into the first. So many colours and so many baskets. Her first couple days she'd been slower, trying to remember what was what, but now, a year later, her hands moved more swiftly than her mind did, blending everything into one big technicolour whirl. It made her mind buzz in a most glorious way which she couldn't help but adore, craving it more and more when it was all over.
It had taken her a while to get to where she was. When Hermione first arrived in New York City, she had no idea where she was going. It wasn't that it was all about the now; it was just a lack of the future, a running away from the past. He was the one who made the initial action, but only because she was slow to making it first, hesitant. She had thought the idea was a bit wrong, that maybe she was making a mistake. And she still thought it now, so many years later. But when Ron showed up on her doorstep that night, she knew they had too many issues, too many memories to work out. The night was filled with tears and the usual angst, the stomach pangs, and the worst feeling of her heart breaking. He held her their one last time before she pushed him away and told him they had to end completely. He reluctantly agreed, though he'd been the one to bring it up, and left moments later, a pained look in his eyes as he looked back on her sobbing figure on the couch.
Two days later she was on an airplane to New York City, her first venture to the United States. She had no idea where she was going, only that she knew of a small Wizarding community nearby, with the name of Raphsobusse. With very little money, she wandered in, unsure of what was to happen next.
She found herself a job at the American Branch of the Ministry of Magic, with nice pay for a starting job. She began in the Wizarding Interests Department; taking care of legal issues where witches and wizards filed claims about mistreatment in whatever such way, from mistreatment of workers, to the mistreatment of those who claimed they got the wrong end of the deal in court. It was boring, but she had company in a few witches and wizards there, one in particular she grew to be a good friend with.
Xavius Hoffletter was an amazing guy, she grew to learn. Handsome and quirky, humorous, yet serious when the matter called for it. He had a sense of direction which she fed off of; if she didn't know where she was headed, perhaps he could guide her. And he did. He took her hand (metaphorically, of course, however there had been a few times when said sentence became quite literal) and helped her regain her sense of ability, of direction, and sense of self. She could still clearly remember how she'd met him; she hadn't gotten to take a shower, because the dumpy shack she lived in was spurting brown water that day and despite her dignity, she refused to shower in such conditions. Her hair was much bushier, more frazzled, than usual. She walked in to find her supervisor standing with him.
"Miss Granger, we've a new intern. Meet Mr. Hoffletter; very big name over here in America, I assume you know? We're putting him in the Department of Wizarding Interests, and since you're one of our most productive employees, I figured you wouldn't mind showing him around?"
Hermione glanced to the tall man and flushed a deep scarlet as he flashed her a wide grin. Uncharacteristically, she giggled quietly and felt suddenly even more awkward, even more aware of how terrible she looked (and probably smelled).
"Of course, Rozowski," she agreed with her supervisor. "Anything to help the Ministry." And with that, she turned to the tall man beside him, swallowed down a lump in her throat and began the tour.
Thus was the beginning of what proved to be an amazing friendship, which she desperately needed in this time of paucity. Harry's disappearance her cut-off from Ron left her lonely and friendless; Ginny was too much of a reminder of what she'd given up and Neville was more broken up than any of them. She'd run away, left it all behind, she knew, and because of that, a rift had grown. One that was far too unbearable to venture through alone.
"Working through lunch, again, Miss Granger?"
Hermione smiled without looking up at the voice as the lavender paper was placed in to the sixth basket and the yellow landed in the first. All that was left now was two piles of papers which needed to be signed and passed on. However, the baskets were nudged out of the way and bumped into the two towers of paper as a figure of black fabric sat down and collided with them.
"What have I told you, Xavius?" she asked with a small smile, looking up to make eye contact with him.
The man lounged out on the desk precariously, like a cat. He stretched one leg across the length of the wooden obstacle, casting the woman a goofy grin which made her insides melt and slide around a bit. Quickly, her eyes cast down at the papers which she began building up again.
"Four years later and you still address me with such formalities."
Four years later and his smile still had that effect on her.
"Why, Miss Grange, it sounds as though you're trying to hint at me to call you by something else. Hermione, perhaps?" he teased her, his rich voice light and easy.
"Funny, Xavius," she said, with smirk. "But really, you don't need to be so formal. We're friends, aren't we?"
Xavius nodded. "We are," he agreed. "However, such a formal name is pretty, and such a pretty face deserves to be paired off with such the pretty name."
A flush crept into Hermione's face and her cheeks blazed. Her signature on the papers became more rapid as she scribbled quicker. Darn Xavius for causing those kind of reactions. Her stomach flipped in an unfortunately eager way (she was trying to battle this down and yet there was her stomach, egging him on. Her cheeks, too, were probably in conspiracy with her stomach, the way they flushed like that.) and she tried to advert her attention elsewhere. Her office though, wasn't all that large, and there wasn't much else to look at but these papers that she was mechanically signing, no thought about it. Everything she did seemed to be mechanical, until Xavius came around. Then she had to fight her brain to function, to think and form coherency.
"You can't keep missing lunch, Miss Granger, I forbid it." His voice came out jovial, as though he were just tossing the idea up into the air, taking a chance of it meaning anything.
The brunette woman sighed heavily and sank deeply in her chair. "Xavius, I have a lot of work to finish right now, and in-" she glanced up at the clock on the wall beyond the man "-forty-seven minutes, I will have a new set of papers to fill. A flying flood of papers will soar into this very office and crash down onto this desk like an avalanche of recycled trees. And I'll be drowning in these papers for another three hours-"
"-which is exactly why you need a break! C'mon, lunch is on me."
"Xavius," she groaned, stressing his name, "I can't. I'm sorry, but I just can't. I'm having a bit of an inextricable day and I need you to understand that, alright? I'd love to join you for lunch-"
"Then you'll come."
And, without warning, Xavius was off the desk and behind it, lifting Hermione from under the arms. Shock filled the woman and she became possessed by an excited fear that left her beating on his shoulders and kicking at him while he scooped her into his arms, hosting her up into the air. His laughter was thick, yet enthralling and giddy, feeding happily off her attacking.
"Off we go then," he said to her while she shrieked (joyfully, it needs to be added) as he carried her off towards the door.
"Xavius, you are a rude and pompous-" she protested, a hint of joy in her voice. "You will let me down this very instant!"
"I will do no such thing Miss Granger," the man gleefully replied as he walked her out of the office, into what was usually the chaos of Basement Room Five, the Department of Wizengamot Administrations, or in brief terms, where a lot of people run around doing work and compiling research for the Wizengamot members. With most people at lunch though, the vast floor was empty, cubicles long abandoned for food.
"Xavius, I will report you to my Supervisor if you do not put me down right now!"
Xavius only laughed and lift Hermione onto his shoulder, hanging her half over so she was left to limply dangle over his back. "The whole Department must be gone, Miss Granger, see? Proof enough that you going for a bit of a lunch break is a good idea."
He marched her directly to the life and tapped the buttons with his wand, calling upon the Ground Floor. The short wait was filled with more threats from Hermione and her beating against his back quite like in a movie, leaving her feeling foolishly like Jane of Tarzan. In the end, as the life appeared and its doors opened, she gave up, her tense body loosening up.
"There, there, now, Miss Granger, not so bad is it?" Mr. Hoffletter asked with a flashy grin as she slid her back down to the ground once safely inside the lift, the doors closed, barricading them in.
Though Hermione had quickly moved up the line in the Ministry and was later transferred to the Department of Wizengamot Administrations and Xavius found himself in the Committee On Experimental Charms, the two remained close friends, and he often came to visit Hermione on his breaks, or when he finished for the day. Hermione always tended to work later than the others did, even in her own Department, and Xavius would come around to poke fun or playfully mess with her, keeping her company in his most absurd way. She'd never admit it, but deep down, Hermione was immensely grateful for what he did, for his company.
The doors to the lift reopened and together they walked into the atrium, where Hermione realized it was raining outside. She froze at the glass doors, closing her eyes as an image forced its way into her mind.
Rain was everywhere, falling heavily, the wind throwing it into their faces. They could barely hear each other as they crouched behind various hiding places. "Stay where you are!" Harry called out to them. The wind screamed in her ears, before she realized it wasn't the wind screaming but someone-
With a gasp she reopened her eyes to find Xavius watching her intently, a hand gripping her arm.
"Are you okay?" he asked her, his eyes intent on her.
The woman took in a few breaths and nodded. "I am, I am," she said, swallowing thickly. She assumed she was, she'd actually been able to break off the memory that time. She nodded once more to make Xavius look away, which he did with a grimace of opposition.
"Really, Xavius, I'm fine. Nothing wrong, see?"
Her voice came out much higher than normal, a sign she was obviously lying or covering something up. But Xavius was good natured about it and said nothing, only nodding to the rain. "You ready to go out?" he asked.
She nodded and withdrew her wand. "Impervius," she proclaimed, using the charm to make herself water repellant. "You?" she asked, pointing her wand towards him.
Xavius shook his head. "No thanks," he said. "I think I want to run through the rain."
With that incredulous declaration, the man pushed open the doors and ran out to the rain. With a gasp of laughter, Hermione ran after him, her head reeling from the moment before, but clearing as soon as her eyes trailed through the sheets of pouring grey rain to Xavius. Impervius always left an odd sensation when in the rain, the water coming down towards her before suddenly bouncing away before making contact with her. Xavius though, seemed to be enjoying this. She paused on the sidewalk to watch him leap through the heavy rain, jumping through puddles. Laughter bubbled from her throat to see him so happy.
"Wait up!" she called, running towards him.
He shook his hair like a dog, his red hair once matted to his head now standing in odd angles, only for a moment before the rain plastered it down again. Hermione felt like doubling over in laughter at the sight of him, the excited grin on his face.
"This!" he called out, pulling her in to him. "This, is amazing. Fun! Bliss!" He hugged her to his body, nestling her face against his moppy hair.
A swell of memory filled Hermione's chest, the very feeling of arms and hair and rain and she nearly startled away from him. She allowed the moment to last though, telling herself she needed to overcome this fear of her flooding memories. It was Xavius, though, who pulled away first.
"Isn't that your owl?" he asked, pointing to a brown speck in the rain.
Hermione's head whipped around to see Roseallie soaring down to her, looking disgruntled, with a scroll tied to her scaly leg. The owl landed on her outstretched arm and quickly Xavius untied the scroll. The bird promptly took off and flew away; it seemed she wasn't as fond of being out in the rain as Xavius was.
"Here," he said, handing her the scroll, her name written clearly in emerald ink.
Another gasp caught in Hermione's throat as she looked at, before quickly unraveling and reading it. The silence was filled only with the heavy falling rain against the ground, pattering heavily. A moment later, a final gasp made its way from Hermione as she covered her mouth, eyes wide with shock, apprehension, and the slightest hint of giddiness.