Chapter Twenty-Two: Here Tomorrow Gone Today
The teenagers broke apart immediately, both of them breathless.
Hermione flushed immediately, both embarrassed and shocked. What on earth? "Mum?" she questioned, convinced that her eyes were deceiving her. This was not happening. She did not just get caught making out with her boyfriend - practically groping him - by her parents. "Dad?"
"Hey, Sweetie."
Harry felt Hermione stiffen in his arms and he had the sudden urge to take her away from this place. He wanted so much to protect her from the heartbreak and pain that invariably came from interacting with the very people he was laying eyes on for the first time: her parents. They looked so... normal. Put together and well-adjusted. It was impossible to look at them and see neglect and indifference. One could never quite tell though, and that was probably the most terrifying part. To the outside world, they probably looked like a perfect family.
Hermione absently stepped closer to Harry, leaning in slightly as she regarded her parents with obvious wariness. She was seeking him out, for warmth and protection. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her upper lip twitching from sudden nervousness. What were they doing here?
"Who's this?" Catherine Granger asked, referring to Harry and ignoring her daughter's question.
"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked again. She wasn't going to answer their questions until they answered hers. Somehow, having Harry with her was making it easier not to revert to that little girl who wanted nothing more than the approval and love of her parents.
"We told you we were coming home."
"Ten days ago," Hermione forced out, her frown deepening. "You said you were coming home ten days ago."
"Well, we're here now," Catherine said, as if that made everything better. "So, your friend can go now."
Hermione rolled her eyes, which was something she never would have done in the presence of her parents before - just, before. "He's not my friend, Mum. This is Harry Potter. He's my boyfriend."
Catherine frowned. "I wasn't aware you had a boyfriend," she said, bristling slightly. "Aren't you a little too young, Hermione?"
"I'm seventeen years old," she replied, somewhat hauntingly. How dare she? She didn't get to waltz in here and suddenly be a mother. "And it seems to me there are quite a few things of which you're not aware."
"Just what is that supposed to mean, young lady?"
Hermione just shook her head, turning to look at Harry. "I can't do this right now," she whispered to him.
"Do you want to go?" he immediately asked, his voice equally low, rumbling from deep in his chest.
She gripped his hand tightly before she nodded once. Harry stepped back, ready to lead out of the house; to take her away from this place... away from these people. Hermione was ready to follow - she would follow him anywhere - when Catherine spoke up again.
"And just where do you think you're going?" she asked, straightening her spine.
"Somewhere," Hermione said. "Anywhere. Just, away from here."
"But we came home especially to see you," Catherine said, primed and ready with her guilt-trip as only mothers were capable of performing. "And you're just going to leave? Isn't that awfully inconsiderate of you?"
To say Hermione was shocked was an understatement, and she let out an incredulous laugh, her eyes boring into her mother. "I'm inconsiderate?" she snapped.
Harry tensed, feeling her magic threaten to break free. He was forced to use his own to keep hers contained, which was quite the feat given her raging emotions. He stepped closer to her, ready to wrap her in his arms if required.
"You're the ones who arrive ten days late, and I'm the one who's inconsiderate?" she asked in disbelief, throwing her arms in the air. "Unbelievable!"
"Hermione - "
"No!" she snapped again, her features hardening. "This isn't a one-way thing," she said. "You don't get to dictate how this goes. You're the ones who messed up. You keep messing up. I mean, what did you even think when you got here and realised I wasn't here? Did you even care? Did you even try to look for me?"
Catherine looked stumped, absently glancing at her husband for support and receiving nothing in response.
"So, no, you don't get to call me inconsiderate," she continued, needing to get it out of her system. "I'm going home with Harry."
"But this is your home," she pressed.
"Like hell it is," Hermione said darkly, surprising even herself. "Harry is my home."
"Hermione, be serious. This boy is not your family," Catherine argued. "You should be with family; not your passing boyfriend." She practically spat the word out, and Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Passing boyfriend?" she asked, frowning in disbelief. "That's rich. If you expect that moniker to work for Harry, then does the term 'passing parents' work for you two as well?" She shook her head, refusing to get dragged into any more of this. It was just so exhausting. "I'm going home with Harry," she said again, and that was final.
"Hermione - "
"I'm going home with Harry," she repeated hotly, her tone steel and unassuming.
Catherine stepped back in surprise.
"And, really, he knows more about family than you'll ever know," she finished, suddenly feeling exhausted. Hermione blindly reached for Harry's hand, her fingers squeezing his. "Take me home, Harry."
He did.
The house was quiet and empty when Harry and Hermione made it back to Surrey. Lily and Sirius were still out and about, enjoying their night together, and the two teenagers would have been enjoying their own night if it weren't for her parents making their unexpected and clearly untimely return. It was the worst possible moment, really.
Harry couldn't help his sigh.
"Come with me," Hermione said, leading the way through the dark house, up the stairs and into his bedroom. She didn't say anything more as she carefully removed her coat, and then helped him with his own. All she wanted was to climb into bed with him and forget that this entire night ever happened.
Everything was going so well, and she was even going to tell him, but now everything was ruined. So, yes, she just wanted to lie with him, feel the safety of his arms, and just be. In his bed.
They would deal with the rule-breaking in the morning.
Harry Potter was more than happy to oblige. He would give her everything she ever wanted and needed, now and forever and always. It helped that offering her comfort wasn't completely a selfless act. Harry would grab at any excuse to hold her because they both knew she felt safe and secure in his arms, and the last thing she wanted to do was leave the protection and warmth of his embrace.
They settled into his bed, their arms wrapped around each other, and tried to forget the horrible end to what was supposed to be a lovely evening. All Hermione hoped was that none of this was a signpost to the way the rest of the year was going to go.
"I'm sorry for everything they said," she whispered, her face pressed against the skin of his neck.
"I'm sorry, too."
"I'm also sorry we didn't get to celebrate."
He chuckled lightly, his arms tightening around her. "Oh, Granger, we have our whole lives for that."
She sighed. "After what you just witnessed, why would you even still want me?"
"Because I love you."
"But why?" she pressed, suddenly needing to know. "Why do you love me?"
Harry took a moment to gather his thoughts enough to formulate words she would believe. "I love you because you make me laugh in seriously inappropriate situations, and because you're unafraid to tell me when I'm annoying the crap out of you. I love you because you love my mum, and I love you because you talk in your sleep."
"I do not," she countered, but he just smiled knowingly.
"I love you because you've got a world of knowledge in that head of yours, and yet you still choose me. I love you because you make the world brighter; because you have the kindest heart; because you're so peaceful, and because you miss your parents, even though you'll never ever admit it." He was wary of bringing up her parents, but it had to be said. It was something he loved about her. "Truly, Granger, if you're looking for a list of all the reasons I love you, I can go on all night."
Hermione wasted all but a second before rolling onto him and kissing him silly. This was the moment she knew for sure this was the boy she loved. She loved him. She'd known for a while, but she didn't have the courage to tell him before. Was now the time? Would there ever truly be a 'right time,' and was it naive to think she would find it?
The moment his hands slid through the slits in her dress; all thoughts failed her.
She'd tell him later.
Harry waited until Hermione was asleep to slip back out of bed. He made sure she was still dead to the world before he gathered his shoes, shirt and coat, and then left his room. He got dressed in the corridor and took another moment to gather his thoughts before he left the house.
And, just a few minutes later, it was a very determined Harry Potter who knocked on the Granger House's front door.
Catherine Granger was the one to answer, and her eyes widened at the sight of the green-eyed boy with the messy, raven hair that her daughter's fingers had claimed just a mere half hour ago. She recognised him from earlier, sure, but there was a different look in his eyes; something determined and protective. It was almost feral, and she could practically feel his emotions radiating off him.
"Um, can I help you?" she asked, as calmly as she could.
"I think you can," Harry said, pushing past her into the foyer of the house. "You're probably the only ones who can."
"Catherine, is everything all right?" Robert Granger asked, hurrying into the foyer at the sound of a commotion.
"Oh, good," Harry said. "You're both here." He moved to stand in front of both of them and folded his arms across his chest, taking in the sight of them.
Really, they did look so normal, and it just made him angrier. How could two perfectly pleasant looking people be so bad? They were worse than James, really, because at least James made sure Harry knew he hated him. He just didn't understand Hermione's parents' motivations, and he didn't think he ever wanted to. There was already enough about this world to depress him.
"Do you know why I'm here?" Harry asked, pointedly and seriously. "Do you?"
They both just stood and stared at him, surprised by his sudden appearance and hostility.
"I'm here because, not too long ago, my girlfriend was crying in my arms because of you two." He practically growled in annoyance and obvious distaste. "You don't get to be part-time parents," he said, his voice strong and pointed. "You either are or you're not. She can't survive just having parts of you. Her heart is too good and kind for what you two do to it."
They just continued to stare at him, watching as he started to pace in front of them almost manically.
"You might be her parents, but you don't know her the way I do," Harry continued. "You have no idea what a privilege it is to know your daughter. But to be loved by her; there is nothing like it on Earth. How can you possibly take it for granted that she loves you? How dare you?"
They were rhetorical questions but Catherine attempted to respond.
Harry just glared at her, forcing her to remain silent. "She'll never admit it, but she misses you. I'll never know why, when I've never known a time when you haven't hurt or disappointed her."
And it was the truth. All three of them knew it. Harry even thought Hermione hadn't told her parents about him because she didn't want them to use their negligence to ruin how happy she claimed he made her. They would tarnish their relationship somehow, and Harry wouldn't let them. Hermione deserved all the happiness in the world, and he wasn't going to sit idly by and let them rob her of it.
"She is everything to me," Harry said, surprised by the sound of his own words. "And, I know what you're probably thinking: we're young and we don't know what we're talking about, and maybe you're right, but she is everything I never even knew I wanted or needed. She is great and selfless and so forgiving, and I hate that you do this to her; that you think you have the right to belittle her and make her feel like a burden. Shame on you.
"Despite you, she is so strong and independent, but the two of you diminish all she works so hard for. You turn her into a shell of herself, and you do it so easily, and you have no idea how powerful you are. Do you even care about that? Do you even really care? Because, if you don't, just go, leave, and allow her to be with people who will love her unconditionally.
"But if you do care, and I really hope you do, then you have to do it right. Every broken promise breaks her that little bit more and I won't stand idly by as you destroy her sense of trust and her sense of worth, because that wonderfully frustrating girl deserves the world and I intend to give it to her." He huffed out a breath. "So, decide now, because she's great. She's wonderful, and I feel sorry for you that you won't do everything possible to know her. Why wouldn't you want to know her? Why wouldn't you bend over backwards to spend every second you can with her?
"She won't be around for you to know for much longer. She's already an adult in the Wizarding World, and it's not long to go before she's an adult in your world. Then you'll lose her for good, and you're the ones who are going to have to live with that regret; the regret of having someone amazing pass you by. So, that's on you, because I'll have her, and I'll be with her every day and, one day, you'll just be a memory to her. Is that what you want? Is it? Because it'll happen, and I will let it."
Harry stared at them, almost daring them to respond to anything he said.
And, when they didn't, he let out a long, defeated sigh.
"You know what the saddest part of this whole thing is," he continued; "she really does love you. She misses you every day, and you don't even see it. Wake up, open your damn eyes and see her. She is the greatest thing that will ever happen to you. Believe me, I know the truth of it." And that was all he would say.
Harry left the house in a rush because he was in a hurry to get back to Hermione - hopefully, before she noticed he left.
The house was still silent when he returned, dark and eerie in a way that made his heart hurt. He moved through the rooms as quietly as he could and made his way up to his bedroom, where he found his girlfriend still tucked away in his bed, looking smaller than he could remember. He was hit by the irrepressible urge to make everything better. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to do that but he was going to try, because he loved her.
Merlin, he absolutely adored her.
Harry stripped off his coat, kicked off his shoes and removed his jeans before he climbed into bed with her, moving to lie behind her and soaking up her warmth. His arms snaked around her waist and he brought her back against his chest, burying his face in her hair and breathing in.
"Where did you go?" she asked, surprising him.
It took a moment for the sudden tension in his body to dissipate. "Out."
"Where?"
"Granger."
She sighed heavily before she shifted and turned around to face him properly. She tucked her head under his chin and placed a gentle kiss against his collarbone. "Why does everything have to be so hard?"
"I don't know," he whispered. "But if it weren't, would it be worth it?"
"Why do you always know what to say?"
"I'm a certified genius, you know," he said softly. "I know things."
She slipped her hands under his shirt and ran her fingers along the skin of his back. This boy was soft and warm and solid. She could hold onto him. "Harry Potter. Certified Genius. Very sexy."
Harry couldn't help his shiver. Her breath, her hands and her words were doing things to him, and his mind was threatening to run away with thoughts. Really, he wondered if she had any idea how perfect she was. Probably not. He vowed, in that moment, to spend every day of the rest of his life making sure she knew. It was a bold thought, but he couldn't imagine himself loving anyone half as much as he loved her. It just wasn't a fathomable notion.
"Harry?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you."
His arms tightened around her. "For what?"
"For everything," she said. "For staying. For loving me."
His eyes fluttered open, and he was surprised to see her looking at him, her own eyes revealing so much. "I'm sorry they do this to you," he told her. "I want to make it better."
"You do make it better," she made sure he knew. "Every day. You make it better."
He placed a kiss against her forehead.
"I - " she stopped, her heart stuttering. She swallowed. Why couldn't she just tell him she loved him? It wasn't that hard, was it? It definitely wasn't supposed to be.
"You what?"
Hermione blinked. "I, uh... just, thank you."
He frowned slightly. "You're welcome, Granger," he said softly. "You know I would do anything for you."
"I know," she said, shifting until she was poised to roll onto him. If she couldn't tell him she loved him, then she could at least show him. "I'm just trying to tell you how grateful I am."
"I hear you."
"Can I show you?"
Harry was more than happy to let her.
Harry woke with a start, the dream all too real for his liking. Or was it a nightmare? He was sweating, so it had to be something awful, though he couldn't remember much more than shelves and shelves of strange luminescent spheres suspended in darkness.
He didn't even know where to begin to unpack that. Maybe Hermione would know. His girlfriend tended to harbour all sorts of useless information in that gigantic brain of hers. Like, who else in the world knew there were roughly 660 skeletal muscles in the average body, just randomly? Truly, she was something remarkable, and he absolutely adored her obsession with learning new things.
A quick glance at his watch told Harry he was probably supposed to be awake right now. The nightmare wasn't exactly frightening, but he hated that they still happened. They'd been few and far between since Hallowe'en, almost lulling him into a false sense of security, but now they were picking up pace. They were almost forcing him into the decision that it was time for him to tell his mother and Sirius.
And Hermione.
Speaking of, where was his beautiful girlfriend?
Harry rolled out of bed and headed straight to the bathroom to brush his teeth and take a shower. After all that happened the night before, he needed to be fresh and alert to deal with the aftermath. Really, so much happened; his head was even spinning from just thinking about it. There were snippets too good to be true, and then there was the issue of Hermione's parents. He didn't know if his speech would change anything but he still hoped, for Hermione's sake, that they did something to keep hold of their daughter. He didn't think they were completely heartless, and he imagined they had to have the intention of salvaging the relationship.
When Harry finally went downstairs, he found Hermione in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a plate of freshly cut fruit in front of her. She looked so calm, so peaceful, as she read a novel, and he could have spent hours just looking at her.
It took her almost a full minute to notice him standing in the doorway and she smiled at the sight of him. "Hi," she said, raising her eyebrows in his direction. "Where's your shirt?"
"Shouldn't I be asking you that question?" he asked, somewhat suggestively.
She giggled softly, absently rolling her eyes. "Are you hungry?"
He shrugged. "Are my mum and Sirius here?"
She shook her head no. "They've been out all night."
"Do they even know what teenagers can get up to when left alone?"
"They trust me," she said simply.
"But not me?"
She laughed.
"Everyone thinks you're a good girl, but you're really not, Hermione Granger."
"Why do you say that?" she asked, all innocence.
Harry looked deliberately at her hands, and then he looked down at the front of his jeans. "Do I even have to say it out loud?"
She shook her head, a blush taking over her face. "Come have some breakfast, Harry," she said. "There's fruit and pancakes on the counter there."
Harry couldn't help his smirk as he made his way into the kitchen and made a plate for himself and poured himself a glass of orange juice, before he went to sit down next to her, ducking his head to spy the name of the novel: 5 Languages of Love. Hmm.
"Have you ever heard of a towel?" she asked, eyeing his still-damp hair. "Seriously, Potter?"
He didn't bother to answer her, rather just looking at her, his heart loving what he was seeing.
"Stop looking at me like that," she said, rolling her eyes at his staring.
"Like what?"
"Like that?"
He grinned at her. "Like what, Granger?"
"Like you've seen me naked."
He let out a light laugh. "Oh, Granger, but I have," he said smugly.
She shook her head. "Is this how it's going to be now?"
"What do you mean?"
"That look on your face, Harry," she said, leaning into him. "I mean, I strip for you once and you're acting like this," she said. "What are you going to be like when we finally do have sex?"
His eyes widened slightly, and his body tensed. "Uh..."
She kissed his cheek quickly, and then rose from the table, leaving him to deal with that lingering thought.
All Harry could do was watch her as she moved around the kitchen, clearing dishes while she popped grapes into her mouth every few moments. He loved having her in his house, using his things like she belonged. If he had his way, she would never leave. If he could have his future right now, he probably wouldn't change a thing. She was his future. It was as plain and simple as that.
"So," she said; "when you put a shirt on, maybe we can discuss last night?"
He blinked innocently. "What about last night?" he asked, his voice coming out in a husk.
She blushed instantly. "Not that," she clarified, clearing her throat. "I know you went to see my parents, Harry."
He dropped his gaze, not at all surprised. He knew she would figure it out eventually. It wasn't even that he wanted to hide it from her; he just wasn't sure he could tell her all he ended up saying to them. His mouth just said words, some without his brain's consent, and he was somewhat wary of Hermione's reaction to them. Merlin, if he ever wanted her parents to like him; he blew all chances of that last night.
Hermione sighed, her body deflating. "As great as it is to be here with you and your family, Harry, eventually, I'm going to have to go home and talk to them, you know?"
"I do know," he said with his own sigh, stabbing a piece of pineapple with his fork more violently than was completely necessary. "Which was why I had to talk to them, Granger. I had to, because who else is going to? They have to know they can't treat you the way they do. They can't. They have to know they have to be better. You deserve so much more, and they have to know. Girls like you; they deserve the world."
She swallowed audibly. "Is that what you told them?"
"Mostly."
She eyed him, making him squirm in his seat. "Just tell me, Harry."
As much as he really didn't want to, he still did. Harry could deny her nothing - he was practically powerless against her.
Hermione listened in silence, finding herself falling more and more in love with him with every word he said, despite how horrifying some of the things sounded. Truly, this boy was special, a certain fire burning in his eyes. If ever she doubted his desire to protect her, all she had to do was look in his emerald eyes and know.
"Look, I get it if you're mad... it was probably a little much, but I stand by it. They needed to know," he said innocently, reading her facial expression wrong. Was she angry? Disappointed? Fascinated? "And, I mean, I didn't know who else was going to tell them, you know? If not me, who? I told you I was the guy for you. I love you."
Hermione opened her mouth, wanting to tell him so much, but the sound of the front door opening stopped her. Maybe it was a sign. The way things were going, she was never going to be able to tell him that -
Merlin, she loved him.
Like, in a hopeless, I-want-to-have-your-babies kind of way.
Sirius and Lily came tumbling in, practically glued together at the hip, both of them laughing over something that probably wasn't even the least bit funny. They looked like they spent the entire night partying, and Harry could only raise his eyebrows at the sight of them. Honestly, they looked like they were still drunk.
Silently, Harry rose to his feet. "And just where have the two of you been?" he asked, trying to keep his voice stern. It would have helped if he were wearing a shirt, and he silently cursed himself for wanting to tease his girlfriend. "We've been worried sick about you. This was mightily irresponsible of you both, and I am very disappointed in you. Especially you, Lily. I expected more from you. I mean, how can you just spend the entire night out and not tell us?"
Sirius hiccupped, and Lily giggled.
Harry's eyes widened. They were definitely still drunk. Well well well. "Both of you," Harry said. "Upstairs, now. Get cleaned up. We'll talk about this when you're sober."
The pair were quick to scramble up the stairs, leaving the two teenagers to exchange a look. A beat later, they both burst out laughing, doubling over. Welcome to the New Year, people.
"Gosh, did you see their faces?" Hermione asked, practically wheezing.
"I don't even think they recognised us," he returned, shaking his head as he returned to his seat to finish up with his breakfast.
Hermione stayed standing, resuming her clearing up. It was a nervous action because the kitchen top was spotless. She just needed to be sufficiently far away from Harry, in order to say what she was convinced she had to.
She cleared her throat, getting his attention. "I need to go and see my parents," she said carefully, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the kitchen island. She kept her eyes on him, trying to convey just how important this was to her. "Just to talk."
"Talk about what?" Harry asked around a piece of pineapple in his mouth. He couldn't even bring himself to enjoy the sweet tang.
She looked away from him for a moment. "I don't yet know," she confessed. "I just know we need to talk, Harry. And, soon."
"Why?"
"Because," she said quietly. "They might be ten days late, but they still showed up. That means something."
Harry sighed, which was enough to stop him from muttering some obscene things. To him, it meant nothing, because he was quite certain they showed up for themselves, and not for her. He didn't have to say it, though, because he was sure Hermione already knew. Still, if she felt this was something she had to do, then he would support her. "Fine," he huffed. "Let me just put on a shirt."
Hermione raised her eyebrows in question.
"Oh, I'm definitely coming with you."
She couldn't help her smile. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
Harry and Hermione waited until after lunch to head over to Oxfordshire. It was a light meal, during which the teenagers teased Lily and Sirius mercilessly for their New Year's Night Extravaganza. The adults were both now terribly hungover, and Harry had zero sympathy for them. Hermione did, however, and she even offered to brew the perfect hangover cure for them.
"She's a keeper," Sirius mumbled to Harry as Hermione administered the potion to him.
"No," Hermione quipped; "I just want to make sure I rack up some points for when we become in-laws."
Both Harry and Sirius just stared at her, mouths agape and eyes wide. "Wait. What?" Harry asked, sidling up to her and slipping an arm around her waist. "I'm sorry; I didn't quite catch that."
Hermione did all she could to hold onto what little bravado she had but her blush, ultimately, won out. If Harry was confused by her ability to make jokes about a possible future marriage between them while still being unable to tell him she loves him; he didn't show it. This was still something, and he definitely wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"Granger," he murmured, pressing his lips to her temple. "Are you trying to tell me you intend to marry me, some day?"
She nodded her head without looking at him. "Are you feeling any better, Sirius?" she asked, stepping out of Harry's embrace. "Should I brew a stronger one?"
"No, I think this is fine," he said, grinning as he turned to look at Harry. "Don't you want to run this up to your mum?" he asked, waving a hand. "She's probably complaining bloody murder up there."
Harry laughed. "Definitely," he agreed, lifting a vial and sprinting out of the room.
Sirius listened for his footsteps up the stairs before he turned his attention to Hermione. His head was still throbbing, but there was something he needed to say, and it seemed as if Hermione was just waiting to hear it. "Come, sit with me," he said, patting the space beside him on the couch.
Cautiously, she obliged. "What is it, Sirius?" she asked, wringing her fingers together in her lap.
"I want to say thank you," he began. "I know you don't think you did anything to help Lily and me get together, but you offered me a new perspective on how and why we weren't taking the next step."
Despite herself, Hermione flushed instantly. "Sirius..."
He just continued speaking, ignoring her interruption. "And, I feel as if all we've been doing since then is taking more and more steps. Harry jokes about weddings and stepfathers all the time, but I've always wondered if he's actually being serious."
"He is," she said strongly. "He already considers you his family. It would just be a formality."
"I intend to ask him for his blessing first."
"I think that's the right thing to do," she said, smiling at him. "He might give you the run around because, well, he's Harry, but we both know what he'll say. You seem to make his mother very happy."
"And you seem to make him very happy," he returned, smiling lopsidedly. "He loves you very much, Hermione."
Her smile slipped slightly. "I know," she said; "I sometimes struggle with believing I deserve it."
"You do deserve it," he assured her. "He's a good boy, growing into a great man, and you're both lucky to have found each other at your age. Do what you can to hold onto each other, okay? You don't want to be my age, just finding happiness, okay?"
She nodded. "Okay."
Smiling, he slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. "Harry mentioned something about your parents," he started, carefully and quietly. "You met them last night?"
Hermione bit her bottom lip for a moment. "We did, yes," she finally said. "They didn't take too kindly to finding their daughter wrapped around a green-eyed wizard."
Sirius chuckled. "I can't imagine they would."
She sighed. "I was so mad at them."
"But, not anymore?"
"I don't know," she answered. "I want to hear what they have to say. I can't help thinking this is our last chance, you know? I just want to know for sure. Do they actually want a relationship with me or not? I need to know, so I can just accept the reality and move on with people who actually want me around."
"Like us," Sirius said brightly, and then grimaced at the pounding in his head.
Hermione giggled softly. "Careful."
Before Sirius could respond, they were interrupted by Harry's voice. "Oi, Sirius," he called out as he skipped the last few stairs. "Hands off my future wife."
Sirius cackled, but did remove his arm. "As if the wonderful Miss Granger here would stoop so low as to marry either of us."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, somebody has to."
Harry just laughed as he moved to stand in front of her. "My mum says thank you, and you're a God-send."
Again, Hermione blushed under the praise.
"Are you ready to go?"
Silently, Hermione nodded and rose to her feet. She squeezed his hand and then went up the stairs to gather her coat and put on her shoes.
Harry glanced at Sirius. "Is she okay?" he asked.
"I don't know," he said quietly. "Just, stick with her, okay?"
"Of course," he said, smiling knowingly. "Check on my mum."
"Of course."
After a quick punch to Sirius' shoulder, Harry left the room to meet Hermione at the bottom of the stairs. "How are you feeling, pretty girl?"
"Nervous," she admitted. "But I just want to get it over with."
Harry wasn't sure if that was the right attitude for what they were about to do, but he wasn't going to say anything. He just took hold of her hand and led her into the backyard of the house. He held on tightly as she Apparated them both into a space between her house and the neighbour's. Harry took a moment to steady himself, fighting off a wave of nausea. Gosh, he hated Apparation.
Hermione stood perfectly still as she steadied her breathing. "Harry," she said.
"Hmm?"
"Would you mind waiting outside?"
He blinked in surprise. "Umm, sure," he said. "I'll do whatever you want, Granger. Whatever you need."
"Just, I think I need to do this alone," she tried to explain.
"I get it," he said. "I'll wait right outside the door, okay? I'll be right there if you need me and, if I hear anything I don't like, I'm going to come storming in, wand blazing. I won't even care."
She giggled, reaching for his hand and giving it a squeeze. She didn't release her hold on him as she led him to the front door, feeling so many things different to when they were in this position just last night. Was it only last night? Wow. It felt as if so much happened in just a few hours.
They came to a stop at the door, and she forced herself not to panic. She was just going to talk to her parents. Nothing bad was about to happen, despite the anxious feeling churning in her stomach. Hermione wasn't about to knock on her own door, so she placed her hand on the handle.
"I love you," Harry said, kissing her cheek. "I'm right here."
"I know," she whispered, and then entered the house, unsure what she was expecting to find. She closed the door behind her, louder than necessary, and waited. It didn't take her parents long to come into the entrance hall at the sound of the door, and Catherine froze at the sight of her daughter.
"Hermione?" she sputtered. "You're here?"
"I'm here," Hermione said, shrugging.
Catherine looked past her, searching for Harry, but refusing to ask after him.
Hermione read her expression for what it was. "He's outside," she said. "I wanted to talk to you alone. Apparently, he already had his chance to say whatever he needed to say."
If Catherine was surprised Hermione knew he stopped by the house last night, she didn't show it. "Indeed, he did."
Hermione couldn't stop herself from smiling fondly at the mere thought of Harry Potter's protectiveness. It was a forever thing with that one, wasn't it? Clearing her throat, she spoke. "I didn't know if I was coming back. I wanted to, but then I also didn't."
Catherine nodded, just waiting. She could feel Robert's presence at her right side, but she drew no comfort from it. It had been a long time since she'd drawn any comfort from him. For the first time, she actually envied her daughter and her relationship with one Harry Potter.
"Where were you?" Hermione asked. "Why weren't you here when you said you were going to?"
Catherine risked taking a step forward. "We were in Prague," she answered truthfully.
Hermione bit the inside of her cheek. "Did you forget about me?"
"Yes."
"Did you come home for me?"
"No."
Hermione breathed out through her nose. "Why should I come home for you, then?"
The truth was Catherine wasn't sure what to say to convince her. Harry gave them a lot to think about, and the last thing Catherine wanted was to lose her daughter. At least she and Robert were on the same page about that. "We want to try," Catherine said. "Will you let us?"
Hermione blinked in surprise. "What?"
"Come spend the rest of your Break with us, Hermione," she said. "It'll be just the three of us, like it was. We can be a family again."
Hermione's mouth dropped open. A family? Again? Was this woman delusional? "I can't remember the last time we ever were a family," she said pointedly.
Catherine dropped her gaze. "I know we haven't been the best parents - "
"No, you haven't," Hermione agreed, interrupting. "I've always wondered what it was I did to make you hate me so much."
"Oh, honey," Catherine said, stepping forward. "We don't hate you. No, Hermione, please, never think that."
"Then, what am I supposed to think?" she asked, her voice pained. "Honestly, it's easier to think you hate me," she admitted. "I mean, indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike, right? And, I just couldn't accept that you just didn't care about me; that you didn't even see me."
Catherine stepped forward again, looking unsure. After hearing Harry's words last night and seeing the obvious pain in her daughter's face; she just didn't know what to think anymore. "We want to make it up to you," she finally said.
"And, just how do you expect to do that?" Hermione pressed.
She needed assurances; she needed truths. These were just words, and they meant nothing. She'd heard words time and time again - Harry told her he loved her every chance he could - but it was the actions that spoke volumes to her. Based on those alone, she had no choice but to accept Harry's love. It was - it was everywhere.
Robert cleared his throat, drawing his daughter's attention. "Stay with us," he said. "Come home. We'll talk, and we'll get to know one another again."
There he went with the word 'again.' Didn't they know there was no 'again?' They had never known her.
"Will you come home?" Catherine asked, her expression hopeful.
Hermione's upper lip twitched, but her parents had no clue what that could mean, merely proving that they knew nothing about her. Her anger was rising for some reason, and she suspected it was to do with the word 'home.' This place was not her home. It was just a house with a red door that she occasionally stayed in. "I'll think about it," she eventually said.
Catherine's eyes narrowed slightly, clearly not expecting Hermione's... hesitation. "What is there to think about?" she asked, her voice tense.
Hermione merely shrugged, her eyes darting towards the front door.
"Is this about Harry?" Catherine found herself asking, which was definitely the wrong thing to say.
"No!" she immediately said, suddenly snapping. This was not about Harry; not at all. "This is about you and me! I am not about to spend the rest of my holiday being ignored in this stupid house when I can spend it in a home with people who love me."
"We do love you, Hermione."
"Those are just words!" she countered. "What about how you show it? You've had every opportunity to make this better, so where have you been? What have you been doing all this time?"
Before anyone else could say something, the front door opened, and Harry popped his head through. "Is everything okay?" he asked, his eyes on Hermione alone.
She sighed. "I think so, yes."
"Okay, let me know if you need anything," he said, and then he closed the door again.
Hermione couldn't help her smile. That boy was really something.
She turned to look at her parents. "I make so many allowances for you," she said. "I make sacrifices, but I still get nothing in return. I get it, you're busy. I get it, you wish I wasn't born, so why don't you just come out and say it so I can get on with my life? I hate that you make me hope, so just tell me. Tell me what I did that was so wrong that you've never wanted me."
Catherine's mouth opened to say something, but nothing came out. She looked utterly surprised by Hermione's words, and it only angered Hermione further.
"What?" she snapped. "What did you expect me to think? My whole life, you've treated me like you didn't want me. Every day, I'm convinced I'm the one thing about your lives you hate. I mean, is it because I'm a witch? Did I do something so horrific that you can't stand to be around me? Tell me, dammit!"
"Hermione."
Her head swivelled to face her father. "What, Dad? What?"
"We love you."
She laughed hauntingly, and both her parents stepped back. "You don't love me," she said. "You can't. This is not what love looks like, because I do know what it looks like. I see it every single day with that boy out there. I see it in the way his gaze softens when he looks at me. I feel it in the way he holds me, gentle enough not to hurt but tight enough to make me feel safe. I see it in the way he's always touching me in some way, as if he needs to know I'm there. He's sure, and he's true. So, no, you don't get to tell me you love me. I know what love is, and this sure as hell isn't it!"
Robert just stared at her with wide eyes.
"Hermione?" Catherine began.
"I said I'd think about it!" Hermione barked out. "Wait it out, why don't you? See how you like it." With that, she turned on her heel, flung open the front door and stepped out. She was reeling, and she felt a little embarrassed. She didn't mean to fly off like that but it couldn't have been helped.
Before she knew it, she was wrapped up in the safety of Harry's arms.
"You're okay," he whispered to her. "You'll be okay."
She didn't believe him.
"Let's go home."
Harry wasn't sure how to bring up Hermione's conversation with her parents, and he wasn't sure if he should. She didn't seem to want to talk about it all; rather choosing to burrow into his side and keep silent. She didn't even comment on the fact that Harry didn't hang his coat on the coat rack when they got back to the house, which was enough to tell him she definitely wasn't okay.
Dinner was quiet. Even the preparation of it didn't manage to elicit any excitement from Hermione, and Harry tried not to hover. He managed to hear some of the conversation through the door, but definitely not enough to bring it up to Hermione with any amount of confidence. He wouldn't even know what to say.
Both Lily and Sirius picked up on the sombre mood, and made the mutual decision not to address the elephant in the room until either teenager came to them. If Harry was being cautious of Hermione, then there had to be a significant and important reason for that. If Hermione wanted this respite, then the three of them were going to give it to her. From experience, Harry knew he was going to have to get her to talk about it eventually, but they were both just so exhausted. Tomorrow.
They would talk about it tomorrow.
"Come with me."
Harry nearly dropped the plate he was drying when Hermione slipped her arms around his waist and tugged. He stumbled backwards, just managing to keep his feet, and then followed her into the backyard. They moved to stand in the middle of the lawn, arms wrapping around each other with the dark sky hanging all around them. The only sound was that of their breathing and, without prompting, Harry started to sway them to imaginary music.
"I'm telling you, Granger, you are my favourite person," he whispered in her ear, his breath warm and reassuring against her skin.
"I hear you, Harry Potter," she whispered back, resisting the urge to kiss him. "You're my favourite person, too."
He nuzzled her cheek with his nose. "You know what this all means, right?"
"What?"
"You can stop hiding, Granger." He tightened his arms around her. "You can just be you now."
"Harry?"
"You can let them know you, you know?"
She sighed, relaxing into his embrace. "I don't know if I want to."
"That's okay," he assured her. "You don't have to decide now, all right? We can spend the evening together, and then you can decide in the morning, okay?"
She bit her bottom lip, a sign of her nervousness. "Will your mum let me stay another night?"
"Of course," he answered easily. "Though, she might put her foot down about you sleeping in the guest room," he said, smiling at her. "Can't trust you and your wandering hands."
"You weren't complaining last night."
He placed a kiss against her mouth. "I love you, Hermione."
Her heart started to race, just at the sound of her name out of his mouth. She would never get used to it. Gosh, if he only knew what it did to her whenever he said it; it would make him even more of a smug bastard. "Harry?"
"Hmm?"
She opened her mouth to tell him she loved him too, but the words didn't come. They couldn't because, right before her eyes, Harry Potter disappeared. One moment, he was standing there, whispering sweet nothings right into her ear; and the next, he just wasn't.
Harry Potter was gone.