Day Ten
Hermione regretted letting Harry leave her flat the moment he was gone. Then again, she didn't think there was anything she could have done to stop him, short of jumping on top of him. That wouldn't have been anywhere close to the most ridiculous thing she'd ever done to force him to sit down and talk to her. However, she wasn't sure it was called for in this case, because she couldn't have said for certain if she thought he really needed to talk or if she had just been reluctant to part from him.
She wasn't so arrogant as to think that Harry always needed her help to manage his emotions; that he was incapable of thinking things through on his own, or that it wasn't sometimes healthy for him to handle things on his own or to even seek the advice of another person who wasn't her. She knew all of this, she didn't like to think about that last option, but she acknowledged it. And because she couldn't be sure if what she was feeling was really about him, or her, she'd let him go and hadn't chased him.
She'd opened the tenth door to the Advent calendar first thing the next morning, as he instructed, to find a pair of gorgeous leather gloves charmed to keep her hands warm. They were not the Gryffindor red that most people defaulted to when they chose gifts for her, but a deep aubergine, one of her favorite colors. She'd worn them all the way through the Ministry and into her office.
There was a knock on her door in the late morning, though still a little too early for lunch. Her heart leapt as she called for the person to enter, and then fell when she looked up to see that it was Ron. Something for which she immediately felt guilty.
"Hey," she said, pasting a pleasant smile on her face, she wasn't unhappy to see Ron, she just would have preferred Harry.
"Hey," he responded, snagging the Rubik's cube off of her desk- which was really only there for his entertainment anyway- and falling into one of her visitors' chairs.
"Is there something wrong?" She asked, he didn't seem upset, but neither was he his usual jovial self.
"No, I was just wondering what's going on with Harry."
Swarms of butterflies took flight in her stomach, she sat up straight and felt herself flush. His expression flickered as he watched her, and she knew he'd caught every nuance of her reaction.
"I just mean," he continued, "he's been in meetings with Robards and Kingsley most of the morning and I figured if anybody knew, it would be you."
Ah. That. She didn't need to have spoken to Harry to know he'd gone to Robards- as his immediate boss- and then the Minister in turn to get permission for Dudley to inform Amelia about magic.
"He didn't tell you why?" She asked, buying herself some time to calm down.
Ron just shook his head.
She considered that. "I think I know what he's doing, but I don't think I should tell you, at least not yet. I haven't had a chance to talk to Harry about it yet. I know he'll tell you eventually, I just…" she shrugged.
"But he's okay?" Ron asked, raising his eyebrows. "He didn't seem to be in a really serious brood, but sometimes it's hard to tell."
"I think so," she answered slowly. "I was going to talk to him after the movie tonight, or tomorrow depending on his mood, if he doesn't say anything before."
Ron nodded, then squirmed in his seat. "Speaking of, I wanted to warn you before tonight, you might already know Emily."
"Okay," Hermione answered with a frown. She had already considered that possibility, magical Britain simply wasn't that big and between her job and just being who she was, she met a lot of people.
"Yeah. Her parents sent her away to school after Voldemort came back, they were some of the ones that believed Dumbledore and Harry," Ron smiled proudly. "But, anyway, she always wanted to go to Hogwarts, so after the war she came back. She was a third year when you were in your last year, a Hufflepuff. Her surname is Reed."
Hermione thought about it, but that name meant nothing to her. Her eighth year at Hogwarts had been a nightmare. She spent most of it almost wishing to be back in the tent where, at least, she had been able to keep an eye on Harry and Ron. Living apart from them had been almost unbearable. She had briefly considered cutting her year short and preparing for N.E.W.T.s on her own in London. Harry had been the one to talk her out of that. She certainly hadn't been paying attention to any of the younger students she hadn't already known.
"I'm sorry, Ron, I don't remember her," she answered sincerely, she wished she could say this girl had stuck out for some reason as it was becoming increasingly clear that she was important to him.
"That's okay," he said, sounding equally sincere. "I know you had a lot on your mind then. I just wanted to let you know."
Ron was looking at her uneasily and it wasn't difficult to figure out why that was. While the age difference was not inappropriate or insurmountable by any means at this point in their lives- Emily would be 19 or 20 to Ron's 24, the difference in experience was vast. And Hermione was certain that Ron knew she was thinking that. She couldn't help the concern she automatically felt, but she tamped it down and did her best not to let it show on her face. Because she also had to admit that this might be exactly the kind of witch that Ron needed.
While no less affected by the war than she had been, Ron had handled it differently. He separated himself from it as best he could, lived in the moment, and even enjoyed his fame to a certain extent. She and Harry both had needed to acknowledge and talk through their depression. It had not seemed to affect Ron and Harry's friendship at all, in fact it may have strengthened it.
Ron reminded Harry of what they'd fought for, of the benefits of living in a peaceful world, and they bonded while they had fun. And then Harry had her to turn to when he needed to talk or to wallow. While Harry had been there for her in turn, Hermione had wanted Ron, as her partner, to be there for her in that capacity as well. She resented that he had been unwilling, and he resented that she had expected it of him. It was one of a thousand reasons they were simply not suited to a romantic relationship, much less a life partnership.
If she met a younger wizard who had been largely sheltered from the war, she couldn't imagine it being anything more than a fling, there was nothing wrong with that, but it wasn't her style. It was Ron's style. But she could also see him settling into a more serious relationship with somebody like that. She took a deep breath.
"I'm looking forward to meeting her."
He tilted his head and studied her. "You really mean that."
"If you want me to meet her, she must be important to you, so yes." She took another deep breath. "I'm sorry if you feel like I've been difficult in the past. Maybe it was weird right after we broke up, but now I truly just want what's best for you, no matter who or what that may be. So I'll try to check my preconceived notions at the door." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Unless she fawns all over Harry, then all bets are off."
A series of emotions flickered over Ron's face before finally settling on a smile. "If she fawns all over Harry you won't have to worry about dealing with her again. But I don't think that will be a problem," he answered with confidence, and more than a little amusement at her protectiveness.
She nodded and watched as he leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees, when he looked up at her again he was much more serious. "So, do you want to tell me what's really going on with Harry?"
She knew he wasn't talking about the meetings Harry had been in all morning anymore, and like she had during her conversation with Ginny, she felt her pride in Ron's maturity well up within her. Except she had to answer him; she fought a blush. "I think I should probably discuss that with him first too," she finally said.
Ron nodded. "I know you talked to Ginny, so you know I won't cause any trouble. I just wanted to tell you that too."
"Thank you Ronald, that means a lot," she said quietly with a private smile.
It was telling that this was one of the most open conversations that she and Ron had ever had, and yet they were still talking around everything. But for once she felt completely certain that she wouldn't change a thing about him. It was like everything was finally in its proper place.
He wiped his hand over his face, but cracked a smile when he looked at her. "How do our lives keep getting weirder? I thought we had reached our limit."
"I think if we wanted normal lives we should have ignored that mess of a boy with broken glasses on the Hogwarts Express."
He barked out a laugh. "Was that even possible?"
"No," she met his eyes, "no I don't think it was possible. Not for either of us."
There was a knock at her door that evening just a little under an hour before the movie was due to begin. Even though she wasn't expecting him, this time she knew it was Harry.
"Hi," she murmured breathlessly when she opened the door, "sorry, I was in the bedroom," she explained, by way of an excuse for explaining her breathlessness. "I thought we were meeting at the theatre."
They were seeing the movie at a theatre near Hermione's flat because it was the only part of muggle London that Ron could navigate, but as much as she was willing to give Ron's girlfriend a chance, she wasn't willing to allow a stranger to floo into her home, so she'd provided him with the location of a nearby apparition point and they were all going to meet there. Except, apparently Harry had decided otherwise.
He shrugged. "I haven't seen you all day, I thought we could walk together."
Harry had taken lunch with the Minister and Hermione ate with Ron and some other aurors who had seemed to take Harry's absence as an invitation. Which amused Hermione, but coming as it did after her conversation with Ron also gave her pause. Perhaps the three of them should attempt to be a little more welcoming to other people, they were perhaps a little too used to having each others' backs to the detriment of outside friendships.
"That sounds nice, how was your day?" She asked as she gathered her things, she turned back to him and wiggled her glove-clad hands at him. "These are lovely, thank you."
"I'm glad," he smiled softly, "it was fine. I spent most of it with Kingsley."
"I heard. Do you want to talk about it?"
"Yeah, but later."
She nodded. "Did you tell Ron what was going on?"
"No, he didn't ask. Should I?"
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye as she locked her door. "He asked me. I told him that I wouldn't tell him before I talked to you, but I didn't deny that I knew. I just thought you should know that he noticed."
"Was he upset?"
"Not at all, just concerned. You're not usually thrilled to take meetings with higher-ups, even though Kingsley's a friend, so it stuck out."
Harry nodded. "I'll tell him, or you can, I don't care. Ron probably won't think anything of it."
"No," she agreed, "he's a pureblood, he doesn't have any conception of learning about magic, he won't understand why it's a big deal."
"So you and Ron had a meeting about me," he teased, bumping her shoulder with his as they walked along, effectively changing the subject.
She rolled her eyes, "Actually it was mainly about his girlfriend."
"Oh?"
"Apparently she was at Hogwarts during my last year, so he wanted to let me know that I might recognize her."
"Do you know her?"
"No, she was a third year Hufflepuff at the time. She wouldn't have been on my radar at all."
"Ah." There was a world of knowledge in that one syllable.
She simply nodded. "Anyway, I basically promised to not intentionally scare her off unless she gets all swoony over you."
There was a pause. "And that would bother you?" He asked.
She could feel his eyes on her. "Harry, I think my record is pretty clear on not tolerating anybody who wants to either use you or worship you for your fame. Of course it would."
"My hero," he said, looping his arm over her shoulders, "you know I was telling Dudley about what a badarse you are before you got there last night."
"Thank you, I think," she giggled. "He didn't seem scared of me, at least."
"Oh I think he is. I meant it as a compliment though." He leaned down and murmured into her ear. "It's hot."
She came to a halt so fast she actually stumbled over her own feet. He caught her easily. She looked up at him, he was laughing but his eyes were intense, they studied her face, then drifted down to her body, then back up to meet hers again. And then he smirked as if to say, 'what are you going to do about it?'
"Oi!" A familiar voice shouted and Hermione startled in Harry's arms. "What are you doing? We're over here!"
Hermione turned her head to see that they had nearly reached the cinema, Ron was standing in front of it with a blonde woman, waving at them. She turned back to Harry. "You did that on purpose!" She hissed, poking his chest for emphasis.
"So what if I did?" He asked, tugging her even closer, his eyes never leaving her face.
"We don't know this woman at all. What if she does turn out to be a fangirl and this becomes front page news!" She didn't even try to extract herself from him though.
"It wouldn't bother me. Would it bother you, Hermione?" His words, his eyes, his posture, everything about him was daring her.
She knew that could say that it would bother her, that she wouldn't want anybody to get the wrong idea, and she was certain he would let her go and never mention it again. He was giving her the easiest out in the world, in front of an audience so they wouldn't even have to be alone together afterwards and could pretend it had never happened in the bright light of day. They could go back to being the friends that they'd been before he'd shown up at her flat with an Advent Calendar and they'd started this little dance.
"No, Harry, it wouldn't bother me at all."
If she'd had any remaining doubts about the risk they were taking, his blinding smile would have vanished them more completely than any spell ever could.
Author's Note: Thank you again for all the get well wishes, I'm feeling a lot better. And thanks to everybody who shared their thoughts on genetics and magic, it was really interesting to read! And, as always, thanks for reading!