A/N: Hermione's text messages are bolded, Harry's are in italics.
Day Fourteen
Tuesday morning found an irritable Hermione late for work as she hastily scribbled a response to a letter, sent it off, and reached for her mobile to text Harry.
Ginny and Amanda are coming over tonight for a girls' night. My permission was neither asked for nor required. If Molly and every other Weasley witch walks out of my floo after them I will not be the least bit surprised.
She hit send and finally departed her flat for the day, five minutes behind schedule.
She was not in a good mood, even the little toy otter she'd taken out of her Advent calendar just minutes ago hadn't improved it. And despite how her text message sounded, it wasn't really because of Ginny.
When Ginny's owl arrived right before she had been due to leave for work, she was barely surprised. The Weasley family information grapevine was not to be underestimated and Hermione had almost expected her to seize the opportunity of Harry (and Ron's) absence to spend some girl time together and to ask her about Harry. Sometimes Ginny's pushiness could be annoying, but on this occasion she found that she didn't really mind.
The problem was that she missed Harry. That also wasn't a surprise. She always worried about him when he was gone. They had been spending a lot of time together lately and, of course, the very recent developments in their relationship added a new poignance to everything she already felt. Simply missing him would have been fine. She could have spent the time with the cats, decorating her flat, and just relaxing. Yesterday had gone as expected.
Harry was able to contact her, let her know they were safe and not too uncomfortable except for Ron's complaints over the food- which was really just another assurance that they were truly okay. She'd had a normal day at work, commuted home the muggle way; stopped at a music store and picked up Italian for dinner, and then curled up with a book and two pleased felines.
It never even occurred to her to worry about bedtime. It's not like she and Harry had been sleeping together, but apparently the underlying anxiety she was feeling over his absence and the many emotions she was experiencing about the recent changes in their relationship seized upon her unconscious mind.
She didn't remember the nightmares, but she knew she'd had them. She was tired, unsettled, and blanketed in this feeling of foreboding she hadn't been able to shed for years after the war. She had not missed it.
Now that she was awake she was not surprised it had happened, but it was going to be a very long day. She was grateful for the opportunity to see her friends tonight, she just hoped she had the energy.
However, she regretted what she belatedly realized could have been interpreted as a snippy or even angry text when she pulled out her phone once she'd reached her office and saw his reply.
I'm sorry Hermione.
She immediately started typing.
No, I'm sorry. I was late for work and frustrated. Just teasing, love.
Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard as she stared at the last word. She had called him that, on occasion, for years. So had he, and much more frequently over the past week. But it was different to see it in black and white. It was true though. More true now than it ever had been. She hit send.
From the immediacy of his response she knew he had been waiting for her reply.
Are you worried about it?
No, Molly wouldn't. And Ginny can't drink or gossip as much as she likes with her mum around. Will just be 3 of us. Should be fun.
Ok. Ron thinks that would be pretty funny.
Remind him Emily gave me her floo address. I could invite her.
That shut him up.
Thought so. Have to work. Be safe. Xoxo
Have a good day sweetheart.
Hermione allowed herself a moment to smile to herself and enjoy the fluttery feelings just a few words from this man could make her feel. Then she turned her attention to the proposal for a Welsh dragon preserve, determined to get something done today.
When she returned from lunch with a few co-workers from her department early that afternoon she checked her mobile again and found another text from Harry.
Dudley going to tell Amelia. Waiting until I get home though.
"Damn it," she murmured to herself.
She didn't think she was imagining the guilt and frustration in his words. Frustration that Dudley was dragging his heels, and guilt that he wasn't home to deal with this issue and that Dudley had to wait on him.
She feared, as she had since they'd left the pub on Thursday night, that in trying to help Harry build a relationship with his cousin, she might have done what she was often guilty of doing and overreached. She was afraid she'd inserted herself, and Harry along with her, into this situation with Dudley and now Harry was beginning to feel responsible for how it turned out.
She thought about the way Harry had dismantled a lot of her own fears and guilt over the various issues with her parents simply by being honest with her. Unfortunately, she didn't think that the Ministry, in the middle of the work day, and with text messages being their only means of communication was the time to do that. She settled for something simple.
Well, that's his decision. Try not to worry about it.
Yeah.
Can talk about it when you get home. If you want. For now be careful. Miss you.
Miss you too.
And with that, even though every fiber of her being resisted, she went back to work..
Ginny practically jumped out of Hermione's floo that evening, Amanda followed close behind, an amused look on her face.
"Hiiiiiiii," Ginny sang, waving the bottles she was carrying in each hand around. "Did you order the pizza?"
Hermione eyed the wine and firewhiskey and wondered if her friend actually intended to mix the two in one evening, but decided not to say anything. Ginny was finished with training until the new year and tonight she was celebrating. Hermione knew better than to get in the middle of that plan.
"Of course I did Gin, I ordered you your own," she looked at Amanda who was shaking with silent laughter. "I hope it's okay if we non-Weasleys share."
Amanda just nodded as she shook her hair free of soot and pulled it up into a ponytail. Ginny danced into the kitchen where Hermione could hear her banging around, opening the bottles and pouring drinks.
"She's in a good mood," Hermione said to Amanda.
Amanda grinned. "Gin! Tell Hermione your news!" She yelled across the flat.
A minute and several sounds of clinking glasses later Ginny came dancing back into the living room balancing three glasses of wine. She distributed them. "Well, it's not official or anything, but before I left today Coach pulled me aside and told me the national team is interested in me! She thinks they'll contact me over the holidays!"
"Ginny! That's fantastic!" Hermione beamed at her friend. Ginny already had her dream job as a Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. Her next aspiration was a place on the English National Team and, hopefully, a trip to the World Cup. Hermione would never love Quidditch the way most of her friends did, but she completely understood the joy and satisfaction in achieving your goals.
"To Ginny," Amanda offered, holding up her glass.
"To Ginny," Hermione echoed, imitating the other woman's gesture.
Ginny raised her own glass and they clinked them together. "Thank you!"
She'd never really stopped dancing since she'd popped out of the floo and after the toast was done and she'd taken a healthy sip of wine, she kept dancing, this time over to the table with the Advent calendar. She bent over to inspect it.
"Okay," she began, as if she was making a grand announcement, "I've been very patient. I hardly asked you any questions last Saturday. But Harry skipped Sunday at the Burrow to eat with your parents, and you've been out with Ron and his new girlfriend. So now I need you to tell me everything."
"There's really not much to tell," Hermione answered automatically, but she couldn't meet Ginny's eyes.
Ginny snorted and in her peripheral vision Hermione saw Amanda sink down onto the sofa.
"Hermione," Ginny said, her voice taking on a lecturing quality, "I know you can lie, I've seen you do it. But that was terrible, which tells me that you weren't even really trying."
Hermione looked around for something to concentrate on while she got her thoughts straight so that she could find a way to talk her way out of this. Because she wasn't lying, at least not technically.
From the outside looking in there had been few tangible changes in her relationship with Harry, which she recognized said a lot about how close they had already been before this month began. The monumental changes that had taken place were in the way they felt about each other, or at least their recognition of those feelings. She was still working out when her feelings began evolving beyond friendship, but she suspected it had actually been awhile.
"The look on your face right now says a lot," Amanda observed quietly. Hermione turned her attention to the woman who was sitting with Estelle balanced on her knees. "Who's this, by the way?" She asked, stroking the kitten.
"Oh, that's Estelle, she belongs to Harry. I'm just watching her while Harry's gone."
"Now you're adopting pets together?!" Ginny demanded. "Spill."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, like I just said, she's Harry's. He found her while he was out answering a call at work last week. I'm just taking care of her for a few days."
"Yeah," Ginny answered sarcastically, "try that on somebody who doesn't know Harry. He's been avoiding getting a new familiar since he lost Hedwig, and he's barely even looked at a cat other than Crookshanks twice. Then the pair of you get together and suddenly he has a cat? And you're telling me that doesn't mean anything? Try again."
Hermione shook her head. She knew what Ginny wanted. She wanted Hermione to divulge and analyze every detail of the past two weeks. She wanted her to obsess over her feelings and over how good looking he was, over every word and touch and almost kiss. She wanted her to squeal. She knew this because she'd done this with Ginny, many times. Most recently over Amanda.
She knew because she'd often envied Ginny that she felt free enough to be so unfettered and unapologetically crazy about somebody. She'd tried for years to tell herself that it was silly, but really she'd been jealous. The only time she'd come close to feeling like that had been with Ron, and it had been too weird to talk to Ginny about him that way.
Now it was her turn. She could easily gush about Harry for hours like the teenager her circumstances and personality had never really allowed her to be. But she hesitated, and this time it didn't have anything to do with Ginny's history with Harry, but because, as she'd told Harry on Saturday, she didn't want to share it.
She didn't want to let anybody else in on this amazing thing that was happening between them, even just as an observer. She wanted to be greedy and hoard it all for just the two of them to glut on.
"Oh," she heard Ginny gasp.
"I told you," Amanda responded.
"What?" She asked, blinking rapidly as if that could clear her thoughts away.
"Your face, Hermione," Ginny actually sighed. "I've never seen anything like it. You really love him, don't you?"
She looked up at her friend, still blinking, and when Ginny's face swam in her vision she finally realized that it was because her eyes were full of tears.
Ginny- a reddish orange blur- approached her rapidly and Hermione felt Ginny wrap her arms around her in a fierce hug. "Okay," she said, obviously trying to sound aggrieved, "you can tell me later."
Ginny let go and Hermione noticed that she was drying her own eyes, and then she happily moved on to interrogating Hermione about Emily instead.
Hermione texted Harry later that night while she was laying in bed. Crookshanks at her feet, Estelle curled into the dip of her waist, and her new otter plushie in a place of honor next to her wand on the nightstand.
Ginny wanted to talk about you tonight
Not surprised. Are you going to tell me what you said?
I didn't want to share. And I didn't have the words anyway.
I understand.
She bit her lip and looked at the screen for a long time before she started to type again.
Come home. When I find the words they'll be yours. You have more than words to collect anyway.
As soon as I can.
Author's Note: Please note that this story is set in 2004. I tried to be true to the fact that people were on their phones less then, phones did a lot less too, and using them was expensive. Between that, the fact that Harry is on a mission, and they're magical people who aren't used to depending on phone communication, I just didn't think it was realistic that they would be messaging each other all day.