Hi everyone!

Another long hiatus - I'm afraid that might be common for the next half year or so. Thank you all for being so patient and staying along for the ride! I also forgot to thank ATPSynthage for Beta-reading last chapter! I didn't ask her to Beta-read this one, so all mistakes are all on me :)

TW: slightly angsty again, but not as much as you expect.

This is my New Year's gift for you all! I hope you are doing well!

Love,

Flora

Chapter 42: How Harry and Hermione knew they had to part ways.

Hermione's feet felt like lead when she dragged herself to their apartment that evening. It was half past 7 when she felt the familiar green flames lick at her frame. She didn't know what she feared most - facing Harry, or acknowledging the possibility that he had gone to his own place, for the first time in 5 months.

As soon as she stepped out of the hearth, she knew it wouldn't be the latter. Harry had cooked. The room was filled with a lovely, warm aroma, that had her mouth watering. She heard the clincking of dishes suddenly stop when her heels hit the floor. She sighed and gulped.

Harry came into the living room, a dish towel on his shoulder, a filthy apron around his waist. Manual labour. Hermione knew what that meant.

'You are late for supper,' Harry said, his expression blank.

'I know, I'm sorry-...'

'That's okay,' Harry replied thinly. 'I waited for you. Want to eat on the couch or in the kitchen?'

'Kitchen,' she said.

Harry nodded and held out his hand. She looked for a moment and then placed her fingers against his palm.

'Oh,' Harry said, sheepishly. 'I didn't mean-... I wanted to take your coat.'

'Oh,' Hermione blushed, and she pulled her hand away, as if she had burned herself. 'I can do it myself - it's... It's fine.'

Harry nodded with that same blank expression and retreated to the kitchen, where she heard him rummage through the cupboards.

She kicked off her shoes, changed using magic and let down her hair. Normally she would have worn one of Harry's sweaters, but she couldn't bring herself to. When she came back into the kitchen, the table was set with two steaming bowls of tomato soup and a home-made focaccia. Harry had his wrists in the sink again. The water must've been scalding hot, because his unsleeved forearms were alarmingly red and wrinkly.

'Dinner,' he quickly said, wiping his hands on his apron and sitting down. He didn't meet her eyes and smiled a smile that wasn't met with his usual kindness. 'Bon Appetit.'

'Thanks. Sorry for being late.'

Harry had just put a bit of bread in his mouth and showed that fake smile again.

'Don't mention it. I know how busy you are.'

She sat down, ruffled through her hair and blew into the hot bowl of soup. He looked exhausted, more exhausted than she'd seen him in ages. She warmed her hands on the outside of the ceramic, sighed and took a sip.

'Tastes delicious, Harry. Thank you.'

Harry's blank expression hadn't left his face, but he nodded. A clock was ticking in the background. After a couple more spoons he groaned a bit and pushed his bowl away.

'You need to eat well,' she heard herself say. She hated how motherly she sounded and winced at her own voice. If there was anything Harry didn't need right now-...

'I test-tasted a lot when cooking, don't worry.'

She looked at him, just looked at him - the conflicted look on his face. The frown that permanently sported his face in their teenage years had resurfaced. He winced at his bowl once more, vanished the contents in it with his wand and ruffled through his hair. It made Hermione even more uneasy.

'Let's… let's talk,' Harry said, his voice powerless.

She nodded, seriously, and straightened herself in her seat.

'I think that's a good idea,' she said, stronger. Harry looked at her with an emotion she couldn't quite place. It made her uneasy.

He played with his fingers for a few seconds and chewed on the inside of his cheek.

'We have to quit this,' he finally said, the colour draining from his face.

'… What?'

The world stood still. Hermione's mouth went dry and she felt herself tremble. It was as if he had swept the world away from her - she felt like falling, falling into a deep, dark-...

'We have to quit working together like this. I'm resigning,' Harry clarified, his voice now steady, breaking her horrible train of thought, but she saw his fingers shaking when he rearranged his spoon. 'I know I'm letting you down, I'm letting the team down, but it's not fair to you. I can't... We can't... I'm not risking...'

He coughed and then gave her that thin smile again. Hermione sighed, relieved beyond belief, and even smiled a little bit. He didn't mean them, he meant his internship.

'Oh Harry, there is really no need-...'

'Yes, there is,' he interrupted her, his voice filled with anger. 'I have embarrassed you today. I have been putting you in an awkward position for way too long. First it was the Daily Prophet, and Greengrass, and now this...'

'Harry-...'

'And you are too sweet and too forgiving of me. Someone needs to put an end to it-...'

'Harry-...'

'It's time to stop fucking up everything I touch.'

'You don't "fuck up everything you touch",' Hermione said. 'You are impulsive, sometimes, yes. And I can't say that I liked the way you talked to me back there, but I think that-...'

'It was wrong,' Harry said, wincing, his voice constricting. 'I was wrong, lately I'm always wrong-...'

'Harry, no, I've been in the wrong,' Hermione interrupted him. 'You were right. 100 percent right. I've been smothering you and bossing you around like you aren't capable of doing a proper job. I've neglected your instincts, even though they won us a bloody war, and I've placed my superiors and my work-ethic above the thing I value most, which is you. And not as - as my boyfriend or whatever-...'

'Hermione,' Harry said, looking just as relieved as she had a few moments earlier, but she looked at him fiercely.

'Let me finish.'

Harry looked a bit frightened, but smiled.

'Alright.'

'Not as a boyfriend - you are right, I have neglected you as a friend. As a friend whom I've known for half my life, a friend I've known to be able to trust in tricky situations, a friend who has proven time and time again that he is the best damn Auror that our country has to offer. I have put my own needs before yours, before that of the Auror case, just because I wanted to play by the rules that you've never played by and were never meant to play by anyway. I know you don't do law. That's why I put you as an intern, we made agreements on that, and I promised you that I would assist and support you. And...'

She felt a lump in her throat. Harry looked at her with wide eyes, unsure what to do with his hands, which were fidgeting on the table.

'And I failed you. I failed you immensely. And I'm sorry that I needed you to scream in my face in a fully booked sushi parlor in order for me to see reason.'

'Hermione,' Harry said, his voice now broken and raw. He hurried over to her and then she realized she was crying, and she felt Harry cradling her in his arms.

'I shouldn't have screamed,' Harry said, as she felt him magically expanding her kitchen chair into a bench, so he could sit next to her. 'It was so, so wrong of me. And I'm so sorry - it was my temper, and I-... Merlin, I hate myself so much for doing that, you have no idea-...'

'You were right,' Hermione sniffed, against his chest.

'No,' Harry said firmly, taking her chin in his hand, so she would look at him. 'If I am frustrated, I have to talk to you. This is entirely my fault. I took you to a public place to discuss something work related - that was the first big no-no. We should keep our relationship and work separated, we discussed that, and I breached that line. Then I even argued with you about something that I should just have accepted and...'

She moved herself into his lap, cradling her face in the nape of his neck. Harry sighed very deeply at the contact, as if he hadn't breathed in a long while, and she felt him tremble.

'Merlin, Hermione, I thought I'd lost you,' she heard him whisper. He sniffled and pulled his arms around her close, hugging her tightly to his chest. He was shaking. 'I thought I'd-... Lost us.'

'Of course not!' she answered him, holding on tightly to his neck. 'I love you, there is no way I would break up with you over something like this-...'

'I screamed at you in a public place-...'

'I didn't place my trust in my best friend for months, isn't that worse?'

'I broke every promise I gave you when I started working with you-...'

'Haven't I? As your supervisor? Then - who is really to blame?'

'But-...' Harry stumbled.

'No buts,' Hermione said, pulling her head from his neck, drying her tears with the back of her hand. 'I messed up.'

'We both messed up,' Harry corrected her, helping her dry her face with his thumb. She looked at him - his glasses were foggy - and she lifted them off his face. His eyes looked red and puffy.

'Oh, Harry-...'

'Ever since we've been dating, I've been crying,' he scoffed. 'Before that, I hadn't cried in ages.'

Hermione smiled thinly.

'Seems dating me does that to you.'

Harry scoffed and took his glasses from her hands to rinse them.

'Maybe, but I still think that what we've been doing is the best thing ever to happen to me.'

'And to me,' Hermione replied, a warmth spreading in her belly at those words. She felt a fresh tear sting her cheek and she laughed through her tears, and so did he, and suddenly they shared a soft, small kiss.

'But we did both fuck up,' Harry said, laughing awkwardly too. 'Badly. I need to resign, Hermione. You know I do.'

She shook her head.

'Not resign. We wouldn't be able to bring this case to a close and I know that's the last thing you want. You want to help Sandra and so do I. We owe it to her to investigate this further.'

'I have to resign from the position I currently have,' Harry said, stubbornly. 'I want to solve this mystery - I do, but I need to get myself in a position where I don't risk doing anything I regret to our relationship and I've been walking on eggshells for the past month. It hasn't made me happy, Hermione. And it hasn't made us happy, too.'

Hermione nodded.

'I noticed that too. It put a strain on our relationship.'

'I don't want to lose you,' Harry said, softly. 'I don't want the stress from work to be so enormous that I say things in ways that I regret. I really, really want that to change.'

Hermione watched the pained expression from Harry's face. His breathing increased again, he bit his lip and avoided her eyes.

'I don't know what's wrong with me.'

'There's nothing wrong with you,' she said. 'Don't blame yourself. You turn yourself into the bad guy too easily, Harry.'

'Maybe, that's because I am-...'

'Stop it,' Hermione said, smoothing her hands through his hair. 'You want to know why you yell? You want to know why you explode?'

He didn't answer her, but looked at her, with one raised eyebrow. She couldn't help but smile at his arrogant expression.

'You were raised by a family who showed you that the only way to express feelings was to explode, bully and belittle. Whenever they were mad at you, they cussed at you and shouted at you. They abused you. You knew no right way of communication until you got into school, and even then you were traumatized by death, violence and torture. The fact that you inherited a mild - yes, mild, don't look at me like that! - temper is not just normal, it's the only way your brain could have coped with all that. So yes, when you feel wronged, when authority threatens your morals and values, you lash out. It happens. It's ingrained in you to fight back against injustice - it's something I admire about you greatly and one of the many reasons I love you so much.'

Harry chuckled at that and allowed her to push his head against her chest, kissing him on the head.

'Since when are you a shrink?'

'I'm not,' Hermione said, quickly, 'although, I have to admit, that after witnessing your interaction with your Uncle in the Pensieve, I did go to the library to collect some books.'

'Aha,' Harry said, smiling. 'And what you're telling me, that's what those books are saying?'

'Something along those lines, yes. I actually feel guilty,' Hermione said. 'You must have been so distraught when we were in our fifth and sixth year - after the death of Cedric, and Sirius. I mean, Sirius was a father figure to you, and I was too busy with my own troubles, even though-...'

'Stop it,' Harry groaned.

'Even though you were in desperate need of some appropriate counseling,' Hermione finished. 'I should have been there for you more.'

'Hmm,' Harry said, sitting up straight and brushing his lips against her forehead. 'I wonder what those books said about your need to feel responsible and guilty for everything, even if it wasn't your fault.'

'This isn't about me,' Hermione said, but Harry recanted.

'It's about you too.'

'No.'

'Yes.'

'No.'

'Yes.'

'No, Harry-...'

'Yes, Harry.'

Hermione looked at him skeptically, but Harry smiled back and she couldn't stifle a laugh.

'Ugh, you are the worst. Fine. When I went to therapy, I figured out that a lot stems from my upbringing as well. I was pushed by mom and dad to always be the smartest and after a while, it was the only asset I thought I had. Not social skills, not looks, not being sportive or well-liked. I was only doing a good job when I achieved the highest score and, even though mom and dad started to notice just before I left for Hogwarts and they did try to make me believe that there was more to life than being smart, I didn't shake it until… Well…'

She looked at Harry, who gave her a look that made her feel light.

'I don't think I ever fully shook it, to be honest.'

He laughed out loud now. She noticed he had a slight stubble and for some weird reason, it made her stomach leap.

'I don't think you did either, but know that looks and social skills are definitely your assets too. You are beautiful-...'

She tried to interrupt him, but he repeated himself loudly over her stuttered objections.

'You are BEAUTIFUL, let's say it a bit harder in case the neighbours haven't heard it, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL - no, don't interrupt me - Hermione, no - and that fact that you have just told me this life lesson shows that you have people skills. I haven't talked with anyone as much as we've talked over the last couple of months. And that's not your book smarts, you know, that's just you being very good at socially reading other people. You've always been good at that. At school too. Remember when you advised me about Cho?'

'Ugh, that was just basic knowledge-...'

'Something Ron and I didn't have at the time. And, before you pull the Dursley-card, Ron was actually properly socialized-...'

'Don't get me started on Ron,' Hermione said darkly. 'That is another rabbit hole that we can dive into another time.'

Harry chuckled.

'Fine, then. Don't take my compliments. Just know that I still regret shouting at you.'

'I appreciate that. It was embarrassing, but, as I said, it was necessary to listen to you.'

'Maybe,' Harry half-admitted, and they shared a smile. Hermione shifted a bit in Harry's lap, roaming her hands freely through his hair now, and he looked up at her with that same look in his eyes.

'I want you to know I'm sorry for not believing in you. I had my priorities mixed up and I wronged you. I have faith in you, you know.'

Harry smiled and mouthed a thanks. They shared another quick kiss.

'Still need to resign though,' he said. 'I won't put you in an awkward place again. I don't want that.'

Hermione sighed, and put a particularly rebellious strand of hair behind Harry's ear.

'I know. And I don't want to see you unhappy. But you mustn't resign. I think it's time to tell you why I was so late.'

Harry raised his eyebrows at her and she smiled.

'I figured that I wasn't the right boss for you, for all the reasons I've mentioned, and that you should be able to investigate freely. I also knew that we couldn't just part like this, because you need at least some role in the Ministry to be able to continue, and I didn't want journalists to go crazy either.'

'Right…' Harry said, hesitantly.

'I… Inquired a bit. Now, before you start talking, hear me out,' she smiled, as Harry had opened his mouth in question. 'Nothing is set in stone. I just talked to someone and told her I need better support for you and she tried very hard not to show me how eager she was to welcome you.'

'Who?'

Hermione smiled mysteriously.

'Eleonore Holywell. I told her about your progress in the case. She was blown away - obviously, none of her Aurors had come back with any useful intel - and she was so intrigued by it that… Well, bringing her the firewhiskey didn't hurt I suppose, but she said to me that she's willing to "talk to you", and I'm quite sure she meant re-hiring you. In their jurisdiction, obviously. Which means that you can do the Confundus Charm or a Polyjuice Operation and that none of it has to pass me before you decide on it. Oh, and,' Hermione added, seeing how Harry was speechless with joy, 'she wants me to assist you on the case as an expert.'

'Oh my God!' Harry exclaimed, pulling Hermione flush against his body for a hug. 'That's… I can't… That's just… Hermione!'

'I know! But - as I said - you have to talk it over with her personally, I only probed a bit, also in case our conversation…'

She halted and fell silent.

Harry took her face in both of his hands and brought it close to his.

'Don't you ever worry about me not fighting for you, okay? I might act crazy sometimes, but this thing between us is something I've got figured out.'

Hermione felt like crying again, but she didn't. Instead, she pulled Harry in for another kiss and rested her forehead against his.

'I love you,' she said.

'I love you too. I'll try never to yell at you again.'

'You're allowed to, with good reason.'

They were harmoniously silent for a moment. Then Harry's stomach growled.

'Maybe I'd like some more soup after all,' he said, with a tired smile.

Hermione had been reading in bed for a bit when she felt the familiar dip on Harry's side, the warmth of his body cozying up to her. She marked the page, laid the book on her bedside table and whispered "Nox".

It hadn't been uncomfortable anymore - what was to be said had been said and they'd fallen into their routine of cleaning up and winding down on the couch - she'd read a good book, Harry had been grooming and playing with Crookshanks.

'Good night,' she whispered in the dark, shimmying on her side. She felt Harry's hand on her hip, steadying him against her.

'Thank you,' he said. She knew what that meant - not for wishing him a good sleep, but for today. He pushed the strap from her nightgown away to kiss her bare shoulder. She felt the prickling of his stubbles and leaned into his touch. 'Good night to you too, Hermione.'

There was a silence, where nothing seemed to exist other than Harry's hot breath on her skin, his comforting hands on her frame, the sound of him speaking her name with his soft baritone still in her memory. She knew his gestures were meant to console her, but perhaps…

She turned around, returning the kiss with one on his lips, full and lush.

'Good night, Harry,' she emphasized.

Harry chuckled against her mouth. He knew what she meant.

'Good night, Hermione,' he replied, her name now long and teasing on his lips, as he placed a low kiss on her throat.

'Good night,' she said, almost breathless, as her pulse quickened, their argument forgotten, or perhaps, not forgotten at all, but wished to be redeemed in a way more than words.

He kissed her fiercely now and opened his mouth against hers - she swept her tongue inside, grabbing frantically at his shirt with her hands.

'Good… night,' he growled between kisses, pulling at her nightgown.

'Good ni-… Yes,' Hermione hissed as Harry latched onto her nipple, suckling softly on her breast. As soon as he let go with a soft pop, his amused laugh filled the room.

'Knew I'd beat you.'

'Just shut up and move your head between my legs,' Hermione heard herself say in an annoyed tone, and then turned crimson with embarrassment.

Harry wheezed.

'No longer my boss, but I'd take that order any day, Miss Granger,' he replied cheekily and they both laughed. Then that laughing stilled, when Hermione felt her boyfriend kiss her down her belly, down her thighs, down her…

Harry left early the next day, and when she saw him again, he was cleaning up his desk, wearing his tailored, navy-blue Auror robes. Hermione felt a pang of guilt and sadness rush through her at the sight. She felt guilty for not getting their agreement to succeed, knowing that Harry wasn't at his happiest as an Auror, but the road to Harry's ideal job was not to interfere with their happiness. This was better, at least for now.

- Sorry for the clickbaity title, but I couldn't resist, haha ;) -