Remember me

A/N: Hello, and sorry for the delay! My fingers couldn't even get near a keyboard for nearly three days... I apologize if last chapter was a bit confusing... Don't worry; you'll get all the answers for your questions in the following chapters! All in due time, of course... And now, without further ado... Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Nah-uh. Nope. Just the plot.

"I'm not grieving for you.

Nothing real love can't undo,

And though I may have lost my way,

All paths lead straight to you.

You're not alone,

No matter what they told you, you're not alone.

I'll be right beside you forevermore.

As we lay in silent bliss,

I know you remember me."

"Like you"- Evanescence.

-+-

The warm sunlight that insisted on glowing through the curtains shone down on his face, making him screw his face up and yawn. He felt strangely content and happy with his life; he didn't even mind the birds chirping on the nearby tree branches –most of the days, he felt like stupefying them-; Harry smiled widely as he stretched on his bed. Almost on its own accord, his arm looked for Hermione, who should have been sleeping next to him, but she wasn't there. Harry frowned slightly at this but then shrugged, a grin finding the way to his face as he put on his boxers and went out of his room.

Who would've known that Hermione liked him too? It had all been so sudden. No sign of anything since she moved in with him- Only to find out that she had loved him since they were seventeen! Harry ran his fingers through his hair as he went down the stairs, still amazed by the whole deal. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself? No... This was Hermione, after all. She'd never hurt him... Right? Of course. But then... Then why had she tried to kill herself? Harry had not forgotten that. Maybe he would ask her, someday.

Hermione, meanwhile, was sitting in a chair in the kitchen, staring at the wall opposite to her. Any thought that may have run through her head glowed for its absence- Everything inside of her had been bizarrely silent since... since last night. Anyone would have thought, due to everything she had ever done, that her brain would be tormenting her mercilessly, but it wasn't. The vapour coming from her tea licked her face, but she couldn't bring herself to drink it. She felt strangely cool and calmed... But maybe it was the lack of strength to feel anything. Maybe, it was that strange feeling of hollowness inside of her.

"Good morning!" Harry greeted her enthusiastically as he entered the kitchen; his voice reached her ears slowly.

"Morning," Hermione drawled, still staring at the wall. She couldn't muster the courage to look up at him, not after what they had done- Or most importantly, what she had done. It was too painful to even remember it, but she needn't worry about it: every image, sound and word had mixed together hectically, and Hermione frankly didn't want to unravel the mess of memories. She hoped that, if that memory stayed unfocused and blurry, it wouldn't hurt so much.

She heard Harry walking towards her and she closed her eyes tightly; she could feel him sitting down next to her. Once he had apparently sat down, he kissed her temple affectionately, making Hermione shiver in disgust. Not at Harry, but at herself. She had drawn this upon herself, and now she had to carry on with it until the very end.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked her, and she opened her eyes. With a tremendous effort she looked up at him. If only he knew... If only he could know! Would he ever forgive her, if he found out why she had been with him? Would he ever forgive her lies?

"Yes," she replied quietly, glancing down again. Harry smiled and kissed her on the cheek this time, putting his arm around her. Hermione looked away, at the far end of the table, shakily breathing in. She had been strong enough to do what she had done last night and now she felt like she was being molested? No dice, Hermione. But she didn't want Harry to kiss her anymore, she didn't want him to hold her; she just wanted him to go away and never come near her again... This is not fair... You're not being fair to him. He doesn't know anything... I was only doing what the book was telling me to! I can't help it!

"Hermione? Are you-" Before Harry could finish the sentence she stood up quickly, not being able to resist his touch any longer. Poor Harry... He was not to blame, she knew, but if she could avoid being touched, she would gladly avoid it. If Sirius would have wanted to touch her in this precise moment, she would've recoiled too. It was, surprisingly, nothing personal.

"We have to go to work," she cut him off, briefly locking her eyes with his. "So you better hurry, or we'll be late," she added barely above a whisper, hurrying out of the kitchen, leaving Harry there, with his eyebrows raise. What was wrong now? What had he done? Not only she had avoided looking at him, like he was Peter Pettigrew or something; he sensed how she had tensed under his touch. Maybe she was just shy about it all. Maybe Harry had rushed things... Rushed things? She was all over you last night. Harry sighed and made a mental note of talking about this with her, as he gulped down his cup of tea and started walking towards the living room.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione came down to the front door clutching a black book. Harry glanced at it with wonder, but Hermione didn't ease his curiosity with an explanation. She simply opened the door and stepped outside, turning around and waiting for him to go out. Harry placed the security wards on the house and also stepped out of Grimmauld Place, locking the door and starting to walk next to Hermione. They were in silence for a while...

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"What is that book for?" He asked, leaning over to see it better. There was nothing written on the covers. Hermione shrugged.

"Just some research for work," she answered calmly. Harry nodded at this, waiting for her to expound more on the subject, but she didn't seem to want to elaborate. Hermione sighed inwardly and wondered what she should do. Now more awake and aware, her brain started to catch up, and decided that it was a good time to start making her feel guilty. She wouldn't like Harry to ask dangerous questions, right? She wouldn't like Harry to become suspicious, no? Hermione closed her eyes for a second and reached out to hold Harry's hand, entwining her fingers with his. This was the only way. Harry was not to blame... He deserved nice treatment from her. Oh... If he only knew what was coming...

And linked together by their hands they arrived to the Atrium in the Ministry of Magic; still in some sort of cautious silence. Paying no heed to the wizards and witches who raised their eyebrows at the sight of their joined hands, they passed by the Fountain of Magical Brethren. Harry heard Hermione snort at the position of the elf and he grinned. When Harry started to walk over to the elevator, Hermione bit her lower lip and stopped walking, glancing apprehensively at the grey doors of the crowded elevator.

"What's up?" Harry wanted to know, stepping next to her. Hermione gulped.

"Can't we apparate to our offices?" She asked, looking imploringly at him. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Um... I don't think that that's allowed," he replied gently, not wanting to upset her. She was even looking at him now. Hermione glanced down for a couple of seconds and then let out a sigh, lifting her eyes again.

"I see... Well... The lift it is, then," she said, briskly walking towards the elevator. As they stood waiting for it, Hermione started wrenching her hands as her lips tensed. When the lift finally arrived and they stepped inside, Hermione resolutely directed her stare at the ceiling and let Harry press the number two. Harry heard her fingers scraping the cover of the book she was carrying, and wondered what was making her so nervous. He saw her stealing glances at the button embossed with the number nine, and then look away as if the very sight of it had burnt her pupils.

"What is it?" He asked her as they went upwards; the memos flying above their heads. Hermione's eyes rested on his face.

"What's what?"

"You know what I mean,"

"It's nothing, Harry, I assure you. Nothing to be worried about. Nothing that I can't handle... Thank you." Her tone was not aggressive; it wasn't reproachful or cold... But it still made Harry frown. It was as though she was trying to push him away –like she had been trying do to, unsuccessfully, for a while now- politely. What about what had happened last night between them? Had that meant nothing to her? Well, it certainly had meant a lot to him. But before either of them could utter a word, the doors of the lift opened and Hermione stepped out of it quickly; Harry followed. They walked over to the Auror offices and there Hermione kissed his cheek before walking away, without a glance back.

"What was that about?" Ron asked in surprise. "She didn't even look at me!" Harry shook his head and his frown became more pronounced. He couldn't decide if he felt sad, angry, disappointed, or just at loss for any explanation as to why she was acting the way she was acting.

"I'll be damned if I know," he retorted, looking at Ron. "Let's talk to her later, okay? I'm worried." For some reason, Harry didn't feel like telling Ron what Hermione and he had done, or what she had confessed. Ron scratched his head at his suggestion.

"You don't think she's thinking about... You know... Taking her life again?" He questioned. He saw Harry tense at the mention of suicide.

"Actually, no. But it wouldn't hurt to make sure." Now that Ron had mentioned the frightful S word, fear started plaguing his head again. Yes, definitely, they would talk to her later. It was enough.

-+-

The Ministry will be empty by now, Hermione nervously thought as she checked her watch. It read nine p.m. She was in her room, making sure that everything was right- The potion that she had brewed was safely stored in a vial, still resembling blood. The black book was open beside her, on the bed, as she placed the vial on the pocket of her robes. Harry and Ron were downstairs... But she already had a plan to avoid them and get out of the house.

So this was it... This was it. Months of careful planning and painstaking research; a sacrifice that almost sapped her of all willingness to continue... And a dim chance of redemption and hope. Hermione sighed as she stared at the now closed book and left it on her desk, grabbing her wand and placing it inside the pocket of her jeans. Trying to keep her composure she went down the silent stairs of the house; smiling outside the kitchen when she heard the roars of laughter coming from the room. She'd miss her two boys. Straightening her back and breathing in deeply, Hermione pushed the door open and spotted Harry and Ron playing chess, drinking butterbeer as they did so. The scene brought more memories than Hermione cared for. This wouldn't be as easy as she thought it would be...

"Herm!" Ron exclaimed as he drank some of the delicious liquid. "Want to play chess? Harry has already lost, so there's no point-"

"Hey!" Harry said with indignation. "I haven't lost yet!" He argued. Ron chuckled and Hermione's brow furrowed, all of a sudden finding it very difficult to swallow. Ron directed his attention back to the chess and, after examining the pieces, grinned with triumph as he moved the king forwards.

"Alright, if you want to make it official... Checkmate!" He announced, making Harry scowl and Hermione smile shakily. Her blasted lower lip wouldn't stop trembling! As Ron again took a sip from his butterbeer, Harry scrutinized Hermione's face, which was faintly illuminated by the candles floating above them.

"Are you alright?" Her eyes were steady and clear, yet the paleness of her face, combined with the yellowish lights from the candles, made her look as though she was ill. Hermione lowered her eyes and agreed with her head, not saying anything. Ron glanced at Harry, who nodded gravely, and they both stood up.

"We want to talk to you, Hermione," Ron started, making her look up again.

"Can't it be later? I... I promised Ginny I'd drop by... You know... To get some things ready for the wedding and all..." Hermione lied slowly, tiredly- warily.

"She didn't tell me anything," Ron retorted suspiciously. Hermione shook her head.

"No, she couldn't have. We arranged everything today," she quietly said.

"Can't the wedding wait, Hermione? This is very important," Harry suddenly spoke. She turned to bore those indifferent eyes on him.

"No, sorry. We can talk later," Hermione whispered, hoping that they hadn't noticed the tremble in her voice. Harry and Ron looked defeated, but simply chose not to argue.

"Well... See you later then," Ron told her with a smile. Hermione stood frozen on the spot for a while, as silence fell over the three of them, staring at her two best friends fixedly. All of a sudden she took three strides and hugged Ron tightly, kissing his cheek. She broke the embrace and turned to look at Harry, who seemed surprised at her actions.

I'll make it up to you, Harry, I swear. I swear...

Hermione hugged him, closing her eyes to stop the tears, and also kissed his cheek. Once she had done so she took several steps back. "Goodbye," she managed to say, and without another word she disapparated from the kitchen with a sharp 'CRACK'. With widened eyes Ron glanced at Harry, who shrugged in equal puzzlement.

Once outside Hermione broke into a frantic run, tears running down her face at an alarming pace. The only sounds she could hear were the ones she was making: her gasps and small sobs; the dry sound of her shoes hitting the sidewalk... She knew it was not wise to be on the streets alone, at night, but she had a wand and could defend herself. Hermione cried as she run and run, far from that house, far from Harry and Ron, far from her past life. She touched the pocket containing the vial, checking if it was still there, and her footsteps quickened.

Soon enough she was nothing more but another shadow in the quiet street, concealed from prying eyes and questioning glances. And she kept running...

Back in Grimmauld Place, an atmosphere of uncertainty had fallen. The chess was no longer fun and the butterbeer had lost its warmness. Hermione had left an aura of sudden loss behind her, and nothing else mattered very much anymore. After a few –and feeble- attempts of getting Harry to talk, Ron stood up and ran his fingers through his hair.

"What d'you say if we pay Ginny a visit?" He suggested. Harry stopped rolling a knight around the chess board and slowly looked up at Ron.

"But she's with Hermione," he replied.

"Exactly... If we weren't able to break through Hermione, my little sister will be able to," Ron told him resolutely. After careful consideration, Harry sighed and nodded.

"You're right... Let's go." Yes, the three of them could corner Hermione and, as Ron had put it, break through the walls she had built around herself.

"Okay, let's apparate in-"

"No, let's walk," Harry cut him off as he stood up. "I don't feel like apparating, and I could use the fresh air." He explained as he walked through the kitchen door.

"I'll come with you, then," Ron retorted, following Harry through the living room and to the front door. Harry smiled at him but didn't say anything, opening the door and letting Ron step out before placing the wards and going out himself. Strangely, it had been Hermione's hug what had made him start reckoning about everything that had happened.

If she loved him, as she had said, why ignore him today? If she loved him... Why try to kill herself? Harry put his hands inside his pockets as they walked through the deserted street, frowning. What had driven her to do something as drastic as that? What had made her believe that there wasn't another solution? Maybe Harry should tell Ron about what had happened. But Ron was Hermione's ex... How would he take the news? Harry lifted his right hand to rub the bridge of his nose, and his index finger started to sting. He lifted the finger and raised his eyebrows when he saw a small and red scab there.

"What is it?" Ron asked, leaning over to see Harry's finger.

"Dunno," Harry replied with a shrug. "Nothing to be worried about, in any case..." he trailed off. His red headed friend sighed.

"Look, Harry... We'll talk to Hermione, and she'll be alright..." Harry kicked a small stone with anger.

"Why the need to hug us? She looked worried, you saw her. Worried and calm at the same time..."

"You know Hermione-"

"No, I don't know her anymore," Harry interrupted fiercely. "You haven't been living with her; you didn't have her around everyday- She's not the same person, Ron!" He exclaimed.

"Okay, I'll give you that, but... She's with Ginny now; I don't think my sister will let her commit suicide in her bathtub," Ron retorted with the ghost of a smile.

"It's not funny, Ron." Harry muttered.

"Mate, you just-"

"Ron! Harry!" A female voice called, making them both turn about and take out their wands. Nobody but them stood in the street. "Over here!" The female added, and they looked at the sidewalk opposite from them. Who other but Ginny hurriedly crossed the street to stand in front of them, looking surprised.

"What're you doing here?" Ron and Ginny asked each other at the same time.

"I was going to your house," Ginny answered, glancing at Harry with her eyebrows rise.

"We were going to yours," Ron said.

"Why?" Harry and Ginny said in unison.

"I wanted to talk to Hermione," Ginny told them, beginning to frown. Harry raised his right eyebrow at this answer.

"She told us she was going to go to your house," he replied. Ginny shook her head.

"No way, she never told me anything... Draco is in his manor in Wiltshire, so I thought I could talk some things over with Hermione peacefully..." She told them. Harry's brow furrowed and Ron paled.

"Maybe... Maybe she went back to your house, Harry?" Ron questioned doubtfully. Harry glanced at him, then at Ginny, and without another word turned around and sprinted towards Grimmauld Place, leaving Ron and Ginny to run behind him in confusion. With a shaking hand Harry opened the door and entered the house like a hurricane, running from one room to another in frantic haste.

"Hermione? HERMIONE!" Harry called and called, but the answers never came. As Ginny looked for her in the third floor, Ron took over the second. Once that Harry realized that Hermione was not in the first floor he went up the stairs to the second, where he found a panting Ron, as pale as a sheet. "So? Is she here?" Harry's voice boomed through the corridors.

"No-"

"Did you check her room?"

"I was about to," Ron informed, going over to Hermione's room and carefully opened the door. Half afraid of seeing Hermione dead inside, Harry cautiously stepped in after Ron, Ginny close behind him; she turned on the lights almost fearfully... But there was nothing there. No dead Hermione... Only her freshly made bed and the black book, closed, over her desk.

"Where is she?" Ron asked out loud, kicking the floor in frustration. "There are a thousand places where she could be!" He added. Ginny bit her lip.

"What if- What if she throws herself off a bridge?" She asked barely above a whisper.

"Oh great, Ginny, that helps us a lot!" Ron snapped. Both brother and sister begun to get red in the ears, but Harry wasn't paying attention. His eyes were fixed on that black book... It had to mean something... Hermione was always reading it... He took one big stride and greedily went for the book, lifting it up.

"Harry? Did you find something?" Ginny immediately asked, going over to where he was. As Ron leaned over, Harry opened the book and discovered a neatly folded parchment inside. He took the paper out and stared at the book, but there was nothing written on it. Harry closed it, deciding that he would look at it later. There were more important things to worry about now. The three of them eyed the note with fright, and none of them said anything for a couple of minutes; they were so afraid of what it would say. "O- Open it, Harry," Ginny finally said with a trembling voice. Ron agreed with his head and Harry breathed in deeply, unfolding the parchment... It was Hermione's handwriting.

"Read it outloud," Ron requested in a whisper.

I'm writing this in my office, so I can escape from prying eyes for which this letter was not written.

I will not try to explain why I'm doing this; you would never understand, and that's alright. I drew this over myself- I'm simply gathering what I have been sowing... No, I won't explain, but I will tell you this: I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for hurting all of you. I don't deserve you, and neither am I worthy of your friendship and trust.

I will as of you only one thing:

Remember me as I once was, not what I turned into. Remember me as the girl who laughed at Ron's jokes, the girl who loved seeing Harry catch the snitch; the bossy bookworm that loved helping her friends when they didn't finish their homework, even though she never admitted it.

Remember Hermione Granger.

Thank you for trying to save me one last time.

Love,

Hermione

Ginny was crying in some faraway place; Ron wasn't speaking. Harry's mind was blank, still staring at her words of farewell... He folded the letter again and pocketed it, letting his eyes travel around her room for any kind of clue or hint that would lead them to where she was. It was strange that his mind was not overreacting like it had when Harry saw her, agonizing in her bed. As if it was a powerful magnet, his eyes found the book again... Ron was trying to console Ginny... In a daze, Harry opened the book and intently stared at the blank pages. Maybe it worked as Riddle's diary had? His palm came into contact with the worn first page and Harry almost dropped the book when the words started writing themselves. He narrowed his eyes, waiting for the words to form; his nose was so near to the paper that it almost touched it. When he read the title of the book he frowned deeply.

"What the-?" He couldn't help but ask. "The Veiled Mysteries?" As the title of the book chased itself inside his brain, Harry absentmindedly turned to look at Ron and Ginny... She had calmed down a little bit... What mysteries? What mysteries were veiled?

Hold on.

Veiled?

Veiled...

The Veil. The Veil in the Department of Mysteries!

Harry stared, slightly open mouthed, horrified, at his two friends. He couldn't find his voice... "What? What's wrong?" Ron questioned fearfully. Harry swallowed and, as if struck by lightening, gripped Ron's shoulder tightly.

"We have to go to the Ministry. Now." Harry's voice was dangerous, low, and commanding. Ginny sniffed.

"What? Why-" Ginny asked with a runny nose. Harry stepped away from them.

"We have to go! Hermione's there!"

"Wha-"

"She's going to jump through the Veil!" Harry exclaimed, making them both jump in the air. "We have to go there, NOW!" He shouted, wiping out his wand. Neither Ginny nor Ron moved. "Why are you standing there?!" Harry spluttered. "We have to stop her!"

"Are you sure?" Ron asked. Clearly, the memories of their fifth year had not faded from his memory. Harry went red in the face at his comment.

"Fine, don't come if you don't want to. I'm going!" He spat as a response, dissaparating with a loud POP. Both Weasleys stood rooted in their spots, staring at the place where Harry had stood, and with a last glance and nod, they also dissaparated with the sound of a firing gun.

-+-

A/N: Ah! There it is! I had a huge block in this chapter again... Because I'm so anxious to get to the next chapter! Again, this chapter was going to be a lot longer, but I decided to cut it in two. I hope that you'll review to let me know what you thought of it! Bye!