A/N: Here's another chapter. Haven't updated in a while. I'm halfway through Chapter 13 already. lol.

Chapter 12: He Leaves Again

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Harry spent the rest of his so-called vacation in his room, catching up on sleep, he's been doing that for the past 2 days already. Although Hermione was overjoyed about his sudden arrival—but wouldn't dare show it—she really wished that she could've spent more time with him—his good side, at least. She ran out of reasons to pass by his wing, at first she wanted to look for Sirius, and give him a biscuit, and then she wanted to watch a nice movie inside Harry's home theater, and she passed by again, because she left her bracelet, and another since she wanted to see how Remus and Tonks were doing. And here she was, staring at the stairs leading to his wing, running out of an excuse on why she had passed there for the 5th time today, except for one. The only excuse that was left was the unsettling possibility that she really wanted to see him.

Weird, she thought to herself, Not only a month ago, I thought that he was, well, a git. And here I am, becoming some desperate stalker-like fool who passes his corridor every 5 minutes in case he would stick his head out of the door to his room. She shook her head in disappointment. I should get some new friends. Or probably do something that would keep my mind elsewhere... or something...

And she really needed someone else to hang out with, things were getting lonely, and she pretty much got tired of staying inside the house all day. She could hang out with Mitch, but it's his sister's birthday today. Maybe shopping with Ginny would work, since she would return to her flat with Draco in a week. She looked at the clock, it was only early in the afternoon. She shrugged, it could work. While walking up the stairs towards her bedroom, she tried thinking on what to do for the day.

A hot shower would do the trick. She told herself, as she wriggled out of her clothes and entered the shower. After 30 minutes, she emerged, and then dressed up in a white, sleeveless, blouse, and wore black shorts. She slipped on her sandals, and tied her hair up. She applied light make-up and then grabbed her purse—it would be nice to go out today.

She walked down the stairs, and went up again, towards Ginny and Draco's room. "Hey." She called, knocking on their door. She pressed her ears to it and heard no response. She shrugged, maybe they went to the beach or something—Draco could use some color on his skin.

"Wotcher, Casey." Nymphadora Tonks emerged from the kitchen, wearing a very stylish olive green top covered in beads. Her pants were sewed on with different colors, and her pink hair stood out.

"Oh, hey, Tonks." Hermione greeted back, "I'm going out to do some shopping, come with?" Tonks nodded enthusiastically. "I thought you'd never ask." She said, and together they got out and went to the nearest mall.

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"So, let's get something sexy and flirtatious for your boyfriend, tonight, shall we?" Tonks asked, while they were searching through a rack full of dresses. Hermione tensed, and felt her heart beating faster.

"What boyfriend?" She asked, puzzled.

"Oh—" Tonks frowned, "Harry hasn't asked you out yet?" She took out a green dress that in Hermione's opinion, looked kind of cute, "That's a shame." Tonks said a frown forming on her bright red lips, sighing and then putting the green dress back, making a disgusted sound.

"What do you mean, 'yet'?" Hermione asked, she tried to avoid analyzing the sentence too much, but her heart was on overdrive, and somehow she couldn't get it to stop. Her friend shrugged, "Well, there's bound to be something going on between you two anyway."

"Come on, Tonks, it's only been a month. Besides, I think he's still healing after that Cho break-up anyway." She convinced, although it sounded awfully like it was she who needed the convincing, not the woman with pink hair beside her, checking every dress on the rack.

Tonks let out an exasperated sigh, "We all saw that coming, actually, so don't fret." She leaned in closer and whispered, "Frankly, I'm quite glad you broke them up, it was about time, you know. I just couldn't stand that atrocious little prat that looked in the mirror every five seconds when she came over for the holidays."

Hermione's cheeks flushed in embarrassment, even if Harry and Cho didn't like each other, it was still incredibly rude and downright bitchy to break them up, what if Cho or Harry would change? And they could get through their problems? Tonks looked back, and placed her hands reassuringly on her shoulder, "You did something good, Casey, you kicked some sense to him. Speaking of kicking—" Hermione gasped when Tonk's hand settled down on her own stomach. They smiled giddily at each other, it was like toxic, and Hermione felt happier by the minute.

"I'm not with Harry, to make things clear. We're not together at all." Hermione clarified, and then smiled, "Now," She said, smoothing out the crinkles on her blouse, "Why don't we look for baby clothes?"

"No." She replied sternly, "I've shopped already, and besides, you're the priority now. And it certainly wouldn't kill you got a haircut and some new clothes."

Tonks led her to a salon, Hermione could already feel the hair at the back of her neck standing. A man wearing a black shirt and jeans strode in. His hair was platinum blonde and he flashed his pearly white teeth at the two of them, he was muscular and the two girls wondered why he was in the mall cutting hair instead of competing in the Olympics or something. "I want you to..." Tonks began, then stepped closer to the man and then whispered something in his ears. Hermione gulped, she could feel it, Tonks was up to no good. The man she now knew as Leo through his nametag approached her, and led her to a chair.

She knew alright, that Tonks was up to no good.

Two hours had passed, and Hermione was suddenly thankful for Tonks' presence. Her hair was cut neatly below her shoulders, and all the remaining traces of black in her hair had been cut away. Now it was just its natural chestnut color, and she had missed it, she remembered the times she even went redheaded or blonde. She giggled at the thought. Leo cut the front portion of her hair, and now she had bangs at the right, and it fell just below her eyes. It looked kind of cute, in her opinion. The corners of her lips curled upward into a grateful smile. Leo nodded in response.

After paying, Hermione linked her arms with Tonks, whose hair was now a eclectic color of purple and then asked what they would be doing next. Tonks bit on her gummy bear. "Well." She said, chewing. "Why don't we get you some clothes?" Hermione shot a questioning look, and then Tonks nodded once, as if she read her mind. "Harry said it was alright to use his credit card."

Tonks let out a small squeal in excitement, then started dragging Hermione to a store, practically pushing her to the changing room and throwing a basketful of shirts, dresses, jackets, jeans, skirts in her face. She had no choice than to try them on. After fitting a total of seven jeans, five skirts, five tank tops, six shirts, three sweaters, four jackets, and seven dresses. She finally made it out of the changing room alive.

"I've never been so scared of inanimate objects in my life!" She said, exasperated. But in truth, all the clothes had fit her perfectly and it was amazing that Tonks had found her clothes that fit her style. The sales clerk approached her. "So what will you be purchasing, ma'am?"

Tonks put her hand reassuringly on Hermione's shoulder, raising her eyebrows. The princess sighed in defeat, and held up Harry's credit card. "I'll take everything." She said unhappily.

"What are you so glum about? Last time I checked, shopping made people happy." Tonks teased, nudging Hermione on the side as they walked out the store, bags in hand.

"Oh I don't know," She sighed again, and shook her head. Her hair fell messily on her shoulder and her bangs drooped over her face. "Maybe because I spent all this on Harry's money."

"Relax, be daft for once. You need it."

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The day played out quite well, Hermione and Tonks were able to buy a huge amount of baby clothes—despite her previous protests, who had known that Tonks had a soft spot for ducks?—even if Tonks was only a few months pregnant. They went to watch a movie and had dinner at a fast food restaurant—McDonald's wouldn't hurt a baby, Tonks had said, giggling. For at least a few minutes, Hermione even forgot that she was being searched everywhere. At around eight, they returned to Harry's place, laughing as they entered the door.

"I can't believe that you flirted with the man at the ticket booth to give us discounts!" Hermione laughed, setting the bags on the table. Tonks smiled mischievously.

"But he was genuinely attracted to you though, when you came back from the bathroom and asked what was going on, that was when he gave in." She told her, laughing.

"Yeah, right. I've never had this much fun in weeks." Hermione laughed, and fell backwards, onto the sofa. Her head hit something soft. Tonks tried to stifle her giggles. "Mmm." Hermione cooed, not bothering to check what it was since her eyes were closed. "I didn't know that there was a pillow here." She started humming a song softly to herself.

"Huh? What's going on?" She heard someone say, the pillow she had been lying on jolted upward, and she sat up immediately. She stared at him. It was actually a person she had been lying on. She suddenly started feeling lightheaded.

"Harry?" She asked, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment, she looked around for Tonks, but she wasn't there anymore. "What are you doing here?"

He groaned softly, when he fell back to the couch in exhaustion, his hands ran through his raven colored hair, and his bloodshot emerald green eyes stared blankly at nothing. "I fell asleep." He murmured, she nodded, and then shifted uncomfortably. Her legs were slung over the side of the sofa. She remained the same position, resisting the urge to look at him. He looked kind of...well...sad. "I went out with Tonks today." She told him, she followed his stare and found herself staring at the fireplace, little flames dancing around blocks of wood. "It was fun."

"That's good." He sighed, and rested his hand on hers, calling her attention. "Sorry, I'm just too tired to put up with a proper conversation now."

Hermione stood up, ashamed, his grip still firmly on hers. "Oh, alright, I'll be going upstairs then. I don't want to bother you. See you la—"

Harry's hand pulled her down, "Don't." He told her, he watched her stare soften, and she nodded. They assumed the same position. Her head was resting on his lap lying down. He was sitting, his head resting on a cushion. "It's alright." He said, absently stroking her hair. A nice and thick silence surrounded them, and Hermione was thankful that he couldn't see her face entirely, or else he would've noticed how red she was... "It feels nice." He muttered, and wanted to say something else but left it hanging when he noticed Hermione asleep, too. He smiled to himself weakly, and drifted off to sleep.

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A few hours ago, while it was still early in the afternoon, James heard two excited giggles and then the front door close. He then realized that Casey and Tonks left to go do what girls do, and he was left with the unsettling suspicion in his head that he had met Casey already, and the tempting fact that she left her room unlocked. He was suddenly facing two very difficult decisions. Either leave the nagging at the back of his head alone, or browse through all her belongings, invade her privacy and find out who she really is. The name Casey just didn't fit, her name sounded like it started with an 'H' or something. He chose the later.

He casually strolled out the room while the nurse was attending to Remus for his treatment, and whistled softly, tiptoeing when he passed Harry's room. He felt nostalgia for his 'Marauder days'. But the thrill would have to suffice, he went down a flight of stairs, then went up again, towards Hermione's room. James' clammy hands wrapped around the gold doorknob, and he looked out for anyone, and he smiled smugly to himself. Hermione's wing was practically deserted. He opened the door, and saw her neat room, everything looked... clean.

There was a picture on her bedside lamp that caught his attention. He approached it, and there was no doubt about it, this was a picture of the Hermione Granger when she was only eleven, or this was how she looked like in his memory. The next one looked like she was fifteen, she was wearing a purple hoodie and jeans, laughing at the camera while petting a golden retrievers. He thought about it thoroughly, the 'Casey' he knew now was thinner and paler, her bushy hair suddenly tamed. Her front teeth fixed. Her hair was colored dark brown, and her eyes glowed even more. He took a close look at it, then set it back on the table, thinking that he should tell Harry soon, but not now. Now's not the time.

James sighed heavily, maybe Harry already knew. Who knows what kind of secrets his son had been hiding from him? But maybe he deserved it, after all. Harry was outraged when he realized that the letter he received was the invitation to his wedding. Harry, who had put so much effort to escape his life in London was forced to go back, dress in stuffy suits and eat caviar with snobs and go to dinners and parties commemorating his father's marriage to a woman he barely knew. James slouched and walked back to Remus' room, memories from his Marauder days not leaving his head.

When he arrived, he slumped down into the sofa, suddenly worried and curious on why Harry, who formerly didn't want to get married to Hermione Granger, lived with her and adapted quite a liking for the woman. Remus looked up from his book, and stared at his friend.

"Something bothering you, Prongs?" He asked, his face sullen.

"Yes." James sighed, and wriggled his bum deeper in his seat in discomfort. "Why didn't any of you mention that Hermione Granger was living here?"

"Hermione Granger?" Remus asked, baffled. "When did you see her? She certainly isn't living with us... Unless Harry is keeping another woman in his room again."

James stared at him, not finding his joke so amusing. "She's Casey, right?"

"Of course not, I admit Casey has a few problems with her family but she certainly isn't Hermione Granger, I'll tell you that. She's only started living with us for about a month now, and it doesn't fit because Hermione disappeared around two years ago, and didn't it just say in the papers the other day that she was traveling in Europe? You're not going loony, are you?" He told him, laughing slightly.

Remus made sense. James put his head in his hands and was trapped in a string of thought. There could be a lot of people who looked like Hermione, anyway.

Perhaps he was going loony.

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On the other side of the world, a distressed prince was pacing back and forth inside his room, this was something he had started doing regularly, since the news that he had three months left to get married. Richard Granger, who had proposed that he would arrange his daughter with Ron had played shamelessly with his mind. There obviously was no wedding between Harry and Isabella! And there was obviously no possibility that Hermione Granger would come back willingly to get married without doing it again! Who was he kidding? Ronald Weasley was torn between two very difficult decisions, what he wanted, and what they wanted.

Life as a prince was never easy for Ronald, seeing as he was prejudiced for most of his life. People were expecting the most out of a person whose dream goal was to make it as a professional athlete and tour the world. He was never given the chance to even run around the park without hordes of nannies and butlers following and watching his every step. He was made a prince through blood, and blood alone, and to him blood seemed unimportant.

Because, as there were good things, there were also bad things that came along with his blood that he had unwillingly chose—or rather there wasn't a choice at all—he had experienced his family's first death threat at the age of eight, and then he was restricted of coming out of the house by his parents in fear that someone wearing a black ski mask and holding a smelly pillow sack would kidnap him. Even his robot toys were inspected thoroughly—thoroughly meaning torn apart then poorly assembled by the security guards—for days until he could actually play with them.

Growing up constantly criticized and watched by the media, enhanced security, power, even strangers coming up to him to say hi, and being forced to be decent were things he could put up with. But arranged marriage? It was the twenty-first century for Christ's sake! Thing is. Even his sister hasn't returned home, and sometimes he wished he would've just left to.

"Excuse me, highness." The maid's voice disturbed his jumbled thoughts, "You have a phone call."

"I—er, thanks, Theresa." Ron said distractedly, picking up the gold rimmed phone.

"Hello?" He asked.

"Hello dearest Ronald!" Isabella's chirpy voice rang in the receiver.

He heaved a sigh of relief. "Isabella! It's been a long time since I've heard from you!" He meant it, it has been a long time, even longer since she was always on his mind.

"I was just wondering, if you're free that is..." Ron began.

"How does the park sound? Tomorrow? At four?" She asked eagerly. They agreed, and then they put hung up. Ron smiled smugly to himself.

Decision making could wait.

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Hermione stirred, and awoke to the sounds of hushed voices and stifled laughs around her. She sat up from where she was sleeping. She groaned and stretched her arms up in the air. She squinted and was complete and utterly shocked to see Draco and Ginny tiptoeing through the living room. She let out an inaudible shriek, Draco was almost stark, wearing nothing but striped mid-thigh boxers followed by Ginny, who was wearing a camisole and apple green underwear. As soon as she found her voice, she deemed it wise to use it. Even though only ten seconds had passed, ten seconds seemed longer than she remembered. Ten seconds seemed longer than she wanted it to be.

"What in the—" She exclaimed, so freaked out that she found herself lost for words. She stood, and folded her arms across her chest. "What are you doing here dressing like...that! Wait—in fact, not dressing at all!" She yelled, disgust written all over her features. The two stared at her and exchanged amused glances. "What are you two so jolly about? Well, just so you two know, this will be causing me years of therapy! Draco, you know better than to walk around stark!"

They didn't stop smiling. "What are you two so amused about?" She scowled.

"Oh, nothing." Ginny squeaked innocently. "Maybe just the fact that you and Harry were cuddling."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it, and then opened it again. She reminded them of a goldfish and Ginny let out another giggle. Her face turning to a bright pink color, Hermione turned around, to see Harry awake and staring up at them. "How long have you been awake?" She fumed, anger rising.

"Longer than you." He replied simply, then grinned. His cheeks were rather pink, even if he had seen Ginny only in her underwear on numerous occasions she still had that effect on him—she had that effect on everybody.

"Then why don't you help me here?" She told, through her gritted teeth. She held Harry's arm, to lift him off the sofa but he jerked her hand away. "Bloody hell." He murmured. He hit his arm the other day when he fell not-so-softly into the concrete floor after doing a stunt. Hermione knew nothing of this, so she rolled her eyes and gently pulled him up.

"Now as I was saying..." Hermione began, nibbling on her bottom lip. "Oy!" she called, but Draco and Ginny managed to slip past her while her back was turned and they were now going up the stairs, sandwiches in hand. Draco's arm securely around Ginny's slender waist. She sighed, then slouched her shoulders in defeat. Plopping back down on the sofa, Harry followed suit, a low chuckle escaping his lips.

She leaned her head absently on his shoulder, and then let looked up at him with big cinnamon colored eyes. "Sorry." She muttered.

"Sorry for what?" He asked, and amused smile tugging at his lips.

She shrugged, "For one, I left the house without you knowing. Two, I slept on you. Three, I woke you up, and Four I have this weird ominous power that makes your skin burn whenever I touch you." She sighed quietly recounting what happened earlier. She dared not to mention that she had just splurged using his credit card.

Harry's cheeks were tinted slightly with faint pink when she buried her face into the side of his arm, well, not exactly burn, just maybe make him turn slightly red. "I know you left. And I already told you that it was not problem when you slept on me, I wanted my leg to be dead anyway—" He joked, but Hermione only glared at him, and not so playfully hit his arm. He watched her blush, then he chuckled slightly, and slung his arm over her shoulder. "I told you that I woke up earlier than you. And for that ominous power you have...sorry to bust your bubble but...I just hit my arm the other day. You are not Dr. Doom or Magneto or any other freaky villain with powers for that matter. Just Casey Barrett."

Hermione pouted. And he smirked. "Did I say that I was sorry I busted your bubble?"

"Say it again." She huffed, now sitting still on the sofa avoiding his gaze.

"I'm sorry I busted your bubble." Harry repeated, slowly this time. "You know what a bubble is, right? Say it with me. B-U-B-B-L-E. Bubble. Bubble. Bubble." She rolled her eyes at him this time. She slouched back in her seat, her head shamelessly leaning on him, while his arm draped over her shoulder. She was too psychology disturbed due to the public display of all the affection her two best friends had been doing in their room, especially when she saw them almost stark running around the house like a bunch of barbarians. It was pretty funny, she had to admit, but traumatizing nevertheless.

"Whatever," She sighed. "What made you hit your arm anyway?"

"I fell." He replied vaguely. "Viktor sort of pushed me out the window and then I missed the cushions."

Hermione stared at him. "And this is what you do when you work? Get pushed out the window by a Bulgarian athlete?"

He merely shrugged in response. "Yes." He took a deep breath, and made his voice sound hopeful and childish. "And if I'm lucky, I mean really, really, really lucky, I get to kiss French women." He burst out laughing.

That was an unintentional stab to her heart.

"Oh..." She said, cracking a sly smile and getting up from the couch. She let slip a few giggles to hide her discomfort.

"Well then, mister 'I get to kiss French women daily', I've had a long day and I'm going to bed." She sighed discreetly, and then walked up the stairs slowly. Daring not to look back.

Harry stared at her fleeting figure, half-expecting her to turn around and smile a goodnight smile sweetly at him. She always did. He threw his head back in frustration.

Oh God, what did I do now?

Another day has arrived, to Hermione Granger's dislike. As she sat up from bed, she started to formulate things to do when boredom strikes again, so far, she had found nothing. She would have to see Harry Potter again, now charged up after having a good night's sleep, she took a mental note to try and practice new witty remarks, her occasional 'sod off' would have to go to the next level, as she was preparing to shoot anything which came to her mind as soon as a certain black haired, emerald eyed person opens his mouth.

Their conversation last night left a mark unwillingly engraved on Hermione's heart. She was well aware that he was an actor, and with acting came the lack of privacy, sleep, having to deal with stunts, gaining fame and fortune and mostly becoming every teenager's dream. But the thought that he may be kissing actresses or doing something other than kissing for the whole world to see never crossed her mind. Or maybe she didn't want it to. Shivering at the thought, she put on her slippers and went to the dinning room thinking that she'd stay in for most of the day.

While passing the living room, she was no longer surprised to see that Harry was dressed up, his messenger back slung over his shoulder, and saying good-bye to all his friends who were lined up in front of him. It was another familiar sight. She walked towards him hastily. "Hey," She mumbled softly, and he turned to look at her. His gaze softened.

"I'm leaving." He told her.

"I'm aware of that." She sighed, she felt like melting. Obviously she wasn't blind, and a blush started creeping up her cheeks when she heard his husky voice or how his tousled hair was slightly brown under the sun. His gaze wasn't helping at all.

He took a look at her. "You cut your hair." He said, smiling.

She smiled back, Tonks had her hair cut to only a few inches below her shoulders, she had to admit that she liked it. She heard the car honk from outside, and then for once she felt her heart screaming at her to just stay with him right there, despite what he had said last night. Her mind screamed no, and a simple good-bye would work. But she felt her body moving, oh so slowly against her will. And soon she had engulfed Harry into a bone crunching hug. "Bye. It was really good to see you again." She added, another blush creeping up her cheeks. He nodded at her, trying to keep calm even if he felt like smiling with joy. He turned around to leave.

Hermione sighed. She was starting to get sick of the turn of events in her life. First she wanted Harry gone, and then he stays, she wants to leave, he follows. Then she wants him to stay, he suddenly leaves, when she's starting to get used to him gone, he comes back, when she thought he would stay, he leaves again. Life shouldn't be so complicated.

The front door closed, and everyone started heading towards their rooms, leaving Hermione longing for just one more moment, just one more, one more where he was actually a decent, lovable man, one more while he only a few steps away from leaving for four, long months. She grabbed her coat by instinct, even if it were scolding hot. Running outside the door, she was glad and somewhat distressed when she saw the car going down the hill, towards the gates. She followed.

"Harry!" She cried loudly. "Harry!" The car came to a halt.

Harry walked out of the door, walking briskly towards her, "What? Is everything alright?" He asked worriedly, his jet black hair still unruly. She smiled weakly, and felt herself pull him into a tight embrace once again. He settled his arms around her back. "I'll miss you." She mumbled. He rested his chin on the top of her head for a few seconds, and Hermione even forgot about how rapid her heart was beating, all she was thinking about was this sweet and simple gesture.

There was something with the hug, and there was something to it, by the way that they were so close that she could hear his heartbeat and feel his chest rise with every breath he took. There was something to the musky smell of his cologne that intoxicated her. For a moment, she didn't even want to let go, but her mind was screaming otherwise. She felt herself bury her face into his chest for another haste moment. The more she wanted to let go, the more tightly she clutched on to him. The silence was becoming uneasy.

He took her face into his hands after a while.

"I'll miss you too." He said. His green eyes not leaving hers.

And with that, he retreated to the car, shut the door and Hermione was satisfied. Just for now.

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A/N: Hope you like the chapter. Please review. Cheers. Thanks for reading and reviewing, it means a lot. :)

Just so you know, I'm already working on the next chapter and it should be out soon. :)