Chapter 27
Don't Ever Leave Me
Hermione walked into the kitchen clearly perturbed, but upon seeing Harry, she smiled genuinely, and briefly laughed at his hair, still shorter and artificial blond. Harry had showered, so the make-up no longer covered his scar, but the hair had to be corrected by a counterspell.
"Do you want me to change it back?" she asked. Harry nodded, and in a moment his hair returned to its normal, longer messy black. He no longer looked like such a clean-cut kid.
"How'd it go?" she asked, taking a seat next to her friend. She had not taken much care in her appearance that morning, a pair of comfortable grey sweat pants and an extra large plain white t-shirt. Harry quickly thought that he had never seen her dressed so plainly.
"Pretty well, I guess," Harry replied, not entirely certain whether the previous evening had been a success or failure. "It kind of depends how you want to look at it." An entirely unsatisfactory answer, Harry knew, but he refused to say more until Ron could be with them.
"Where is everyone anyway?" Harry asked, as his home appeared to be devoid of Weasleys.
"They all went to the twins' store," Hermione informed him, "and then they are planning to visit some relatives in the Manchester area. Ron didn't want to go, but it was a family thing. I told him he needed to go. They wanted me to come too, but I said I would stay here with you, just in case."
"Just in case what?" Harry laughed, "To keep me from diving off the roof?" Hermione tried to scowl, but she could only manage a smirk.
"Just in case you need my help for anything, and I didn't want you to come home to an empty house. I didn't want to go with them anyway."
"Well, I'm going to need your help, that's for sure. When are Ron and the rest of them coming back."
"Not until tonight, they thought," she answered, and the perturbed expression returned to her face.
"Is something wrong, Hermione? It looks like something is bothering you."
Hermione shook her head, "No, nothing is . . . , Yes, something is wrong, but . . ." She hesitated but did not finish the sentence.
"But what?"
"It's just that you have so much on your shoulders right now; this is nothing important. I don't want to bother you with stupid personal problems." She brushed a few strands of hair out of her eyes, pushing them back into the bushiness of the rest of her brown hair. Clearly she had spent little time preparing her hair that morning.
Far too intrigued to drop the subject, Harry had an idea that the "stupid personal problem" had to do with a certain red-headed boy who happened to be his best friend.
"Does this have to do with Ron?"
Hermione glanced up at her friend, and muttered, "Am I that easy to read?"
"Well, it didn't take a genius. I'm not completely oblivious." Again he noted her puffy, red eyes.
"I know you aren't, but that big lug of a friend of yours can be, that's for sure." Hermione's eyes squinted with anger.
"So I take it the two of you had a little spat?" Harry asked with a touch of amusement. He long before had become accustomed to their verbal battles, and after the events of the last day, he found it refreshing to discuss something normal for a change. The witch frowned and nodded her head. She shifted one leg under her body, turning slightly towards Harry.
"You know we've been . . . together lately, right? I mean, boyfriend and girlfriend." Harry nodded, and he saw Hermione's hands fidget nervously. "We don't ever do anything when you're around, because, well, it just seems weird. But you haven't been here much lately, and we've had a lot of time to be, you know, together."
"What you're trying to say," Harry offered helpfully, "is that you two have been snogging every chance you get." Hermione's face reddened instantly, but she nodded to indicate that Harry hit the mark.
"Sometimes we're . . . doing that, but then later we seem to find something to argue about. It's hard to be his girlfriend, Harry," she exclaimed, pounding her fist on the thick wooden table. "There're a lot of things I like about Ron, but he can be a complete and absolute git!" Her anger overcame her embarrassment.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Harry asked gently, "Something bad, right?" He pushed his empty plate away from him, and turned his chair a few inches towards his friend.
"Oh nothing that bad. We just got into a big argument. Big even for us." She looked up at the dingy white ceiling, an expression of embarrassed disbelief on her face.
"That's big!" Harry joked, trying to lighten the mood.
"Well, we've had some big ones. I'm just not sure that this was a good idea, being with Ron, I mean." She lowered her head and paused as she contemplated her relationship. "Maybe we just let our hormones get out of control. I mean, I felt great at first, having a boyfriend and all, but now I'm sorry about it. Now I don't know what to do."
"I know what you mean," Harry sympathized, thinking of Ginny, "It's kind of hard to put the cat back in the bag once it's out."
"Exactly. Things can never be the same if we break up. Not between Ron and me, or even among the three of us. That's been one of the problems," Hermione added, instantly regretting her final remark.
"You mean, I've been one of the problems?" Harry's bemused expression vanished, replaced by a grimace.
"No, you haven't done anything wrong. It's just, well Ron can be an extremely jealous boy, and the fact that I'm so concerned about you, and talk about you a lot, bothers him. We've had a few rows about it," Hermione reluctantly explained, refusing to look at Harry but focusing on a chipped bit of plaster on the wall behind the kitchen table.
Up to this point, Harry surprised himself that he had not been bothered by their conversation, other than concern for a hurting friend, but this last comment suddenly caused his nerves to jump. Somehow he always caused problems for those closest to him. No matter what he did or did not do, said or did not say, his mere existence had a negative effect on everything and everyone he touched. His eyes squinted, but Hermione instantly deciphered Harry's changed mood.
"Don't start blaming yourself, Harry Potter," she exclaimed, finally turning to look directly at him, "You've had nothing to do with this. Just because that lump of a friend of yours can't understand that you and I are best friends and that nothing is going to change that . . ." She could not say any more as her voice choked due to the sudden appearance of a lump in her throat.
They remained silent for a few moments as Hermione again looked away in embarrassment. Harry thought back over the past couple of days, trying to figure out what may have sparked this row. In a few moments, it dawned on him.
"Last night, right? When you put the make-up on me?"
She did go a bit overboard, Harry recalled, touching his face and hair more that strictly necessary, and Ron did not appear at all happy about it. Reluctantly, Hermione nodded, looking ashamed about the whole affair, and she averted her eyes again.
"Ron thought that I . . . 'enjoyed' . . . putting the make-up on you a little too much. I told him . . ., well, we had an argument. A huge argument."
Up until this time, Hermione had maintained her composure, but Harry knew enough about females to know when tears would flow. What should he do? On the one hand, it seemed that his friendship with Hermione largely contributed to the current friction between his best friends, and if he moved to comfort her, perhaps he would only exacerbate the problem. On the other hand, he considered this girl his best friend, someone who had stood with him through thick and thin, far more than he ever deserved. She needed his friendship now more than ever. The few seconds which passed during his musings allowed enough time for the first tears to fall, and Harry knew that he had to comfort her, no matter the consequences.
"Come here," he murmured, as he stood up and helped Hermione to her feet. He wrapped her in a gentle embrace, so that she could bury her face into his shoulder. The show of compassion caused the last crack in the dam, and the Head Girl sobbed uncontrollably for a good two minutes. Harry remained silent, allowing her to get the tears out of her system. He had no idea what to say anyway. Hermione tightened the embrace, and Harry, despite his ethical misgivings, could not deny how nice it felt.
The kitchen did not seem the best place to comfort a friend, so Harry wrapped his arm around Hermione and led her to the sitting room, where they sat next to each other on the sofa facing the fire place. Flicking his wand without a word, Harry started a fire, and the two friends sat a good while looking into the blue-yellow flames. The fire seemed to calm Hermione, and she felt embarrassed by her uncharacteristic show of emotion.
"I'm sorry about that, Harry." she apologized quietly, "The last thing you need is an emotional female in your life. Please don't worry about me." She wiped her eyes with the back of her arm.
Harry shook his head, responding, "Being friends means we worry about each other. Merlin knows you worry about me enough. I have the right to worry about you too, OK?"
She smiled at his light but meaningful comment and agreed, "OK." Thank Merlin that Ron could not see them at that moment, Harry considered. Or Ginny for that matter. His left arm remained wrapped around Hermione's back, as she leaned her head on his shoulder. If he was jealous before . . ., Harry thought to himself. Hermione had stopped crying, but her eyes still glistened.
"You're a good friend, Harry. I don't know what I'd do without you," Hermione half spoke, half whispered in a hoarse voice. She turned her head to look at him, but Harry continued staring into the fire. After studying the young man for several moments, she asked before fully considering her question, "Why do you think we never, you know . . . I mean everyone seems to think that we are. Rita Skeeter, Victor Krum, Cho. The girls in the dormitory always bug me about it. And of course the Prophet's 'The Chosen One's Chosen One.' Most of the magical world thinks I'm your girlfriend." Such a topic of conversation between them would have been unthinkable in the past, but after Hermione's emotional outburst, it almost seemed natural to discuss it.
"Does that bother you?"
"Not really. Maybe a little, but only because I don't like my privacy invaded." Hermione considered, returning her gaze to the hypnotic fire, "I don't care if they think we're together. Can't really blame them for thinking that, since we are such close friends and spend so much time together."
"Maybe we're too close to be close in that way," Harry suggested as he also stared at the flames, "It would change everything." For some reason, he felt butterflies in his stomach, and he felt Hermione nervously change her position slightly.
"Could be," agreed Hermione, disbelieving that she was discussing this matter with Harry, a matter that she studiously avoided even thinking about in the past. "It seems a little strange though, doesn't it? I mean we are such close friends, and we're a boy and a girl, and . . . Well, it would seem normal that we would be more than friends." She nervously closed her eyes and squeezed them tightly, amazed that she would say such a thing to Harry and knowing that she probably would regret it later, yet she could not help herself.
"There's nothing normal about me," Harry answered, finally turning to look at her. She instinctively turned as well, and their eyes met for the first time. "For better or worse, I've never been normal, and nothing I do can be normal anymore. At least not until its all over. Maybe then, I can be normal, at least a little bit." He paused for a moment. "If I'm alive," he added as an afterthought.
"You'll be alive, Harry. I know it."
Harry could not respond to that piece of optimism, so instead he advised, "I don't think you should make any hasty decisions about Ron. He can be a git, I know, but he really likes you, and deep down he's a great person. Maybe he just needs some time to adjust." Nausea pangs surged in Harry's stomach as he spoke the words, but he felt a certain obligation to defend his best friend.
"I know he's a good person, but why is he so jealous?! And why do we have to argue about every little thing?" Hermione shifted her position slightly at the irritation she felt every time she thought about it. "These last couple of days, we've either been snogging or arguing. I'm sick of it!"
"Well, I wish I could give you some better advice, Hermione. I feel like I'm in the middle. Maybe it will be better after it's all over. You won't have to be around me so much. There will be more time for yourselves, you know, without me being in the middle."
If Harry thought his comment would reassure his friend, he soon learned his mistake. His well-intended remark instead reminded Hermione that the day approached, much too quickly, when they would no longer be schoolmates, no longer spend hours of each day together, go their separate ways. Tears again leaked from her eyes, and she instinctively reached out to her friend, who welcomed her into his arms again.
"Don't say that, Harry! I don't ever want that time to come. I don't ever want you not to be around." Her sobs prevented additional words, until finally she struggled to say, "Don't ever leave me, Harry."
Realizing his error, Harry held his friend again, softly assuring her, "I'm not going anywhere, Hermione. We'll always be close, no matter what happens." As he embraced her tightly to his chest, he wondered whether in fact this would prove true. So many variables existed, most prominently his likely death. Even if he somehow survived, he knew that their paths still may diverge, intentionally or not. He thought of Remus, who no longer had any of his friends from Hogwarts. Would that happen to them too?
They remained silent for some minutes, Hermione wrapped in Harry's arms, both gazing into the flames of the fireplace. Harry knew that Hermione, after settling her emotions, started thinking intensely, for he recognized her expression well. Finally, she separated herself from Harry's arm, which did not disappoint him too much as it had started to fall asleep. She turned her body towards him and looked right into his green eyes.
"Thank you for being here, Harry. I feel a little better now. But I'm sorry to dump my problems on you." She paused for a few seconds and in a less convincing voice added, "Anyway, I think Ginny is the right girl for you, after it's all over. I'm sure the two of you will get back together." Her eyes broke their contact with Harry's when she mentioned Ginny.
Harry stared back at Hermione, and then thought about Ginny. These were the two women in his life. Looking at Hermione, he realized that she had become a pretty young woman, despite her plain attire; perhaps not a "Witch's Weekly" model, but beautiful nonetheless. The same, of course, could be said for Ginny. He had never experienced this much physical contact with Hermione, and he could not completely deny the attraction he felt.
Would he return to Ginny? Could Hermione and he maybe become more than friends? He truly did not know. That aspect of his life seemed so far off in an uncertain future that he found it impossible to truly consider it.
Finally he responded to Hermione's comment, "I'm not sure if we will. I'm really not. But I just can't worry about that now. One thing I can tell you though. I'll be the happiest man in the world if I'm alive to face those problems."
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Never had Harry and Hermione had so much physical contact with each other for such an extended period of time. That afternoon, they stayed apart, realizing that they could not make a habit of it. Hermione especially assured that they maintained a safe distance, and she resolutely avoided making eye contact with her friend. They conversed, read, ate lunch and dinner, without ever touching each other. Somehow, they both felt that their friendship had been altered by the events of the morning. Something had happened. A sexual tension emerged between them that had not existed before.
They entered into an unspoken agreement that their friendship could not change now, not with everything facing them. Both wanted the Weasleys to return as soon as possible to break the heavy mood.
After dinner, Harry excused himself to take a shower and to shave. He normally did not perform these acts so early in the evening, but being around Hermione had become so uncomfortable that he desired to have some time away from her. Leisurely enjoying his shower, he did not leave his room for a good hour and a half, by which time the Weasleys had returned. Hearing their voices in the kitchen, Harry headed down the hall, but stopped in his tracks outside Hermione's room. Raised voices could be heard through the door.
"I don't believe it!" Ron complained disbelievingly, "We've just been together a couple of weeks. Give it a chance."
"We made a mistake, Ron," Hermione responded firmly, "I like you a lot, but we should not have done it. Now is not the right time. There's too much for us to do. Harry needs us, and he needs us at our best. I haven't been able to concentrate lately. All our arguments - they just take too much out of me."
"Oh, I see!" Ron retorted with voice raised, and in Harry's mind's eye he could see his mate's face reddening, "This is all about Harry, isn't it? Harry this, and Harry that. Did you have a nice day with Harry today? Should I leave the house all day tomorrow too?"
"As a matter of fact, I DID have a nice day with your BEST FRIEND," Hermione shouted, "because he's not the BIGGEST GIT I'VE KNOWN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE."
By this time, Ginny had climbed the stairs and stood next to Harry. The two made eye contact but said nothing. We should not listen, Harry thought, but his feet remained nailed to the floor. Ginny heard Hermione's shouting and knew something big was happening.
Ron continued the yelling, "Yeah, I bet you had a GREAT time with my BEST FRIEND today, just like you did last night putting on that makeup. What did you put on him today? BODY LOTION?"
"No, Ron. Do you know what I put on him? MY PROBLEMS. And you know what he did? He SHOWED SOME COMPASSION. He LISTENED TO ME. Have you ever done any of those things?"
Upon hearing this, Ginny looked up at Harry with an inquisitive look, which Harry did his best to ignore.
"If Harry is so great, then why did you get together with me anyway," Ron asked in a pained lower voice, chastened by Hermione's comment.
"Because I like you, Ron. I like Harry, too. You two are my best friends. I'm a strange girl; both of my best friends are boys. Why are you so jealous of Harry? Just because we were together doesn't mean that I have to dump him as a friend. You know I could never do that."
"I never wanted you to dump him, but you know it's hard for a boy to see his girlfriend touching another boy like you did with Harry. It just seems to me that the two of you may want to be more than friends."
A long silence followed, and Harry wondered what expression Hermione's face displayed in reaction to that comment. His former girlfriend looked back and forth between the door and Harry, gradually understanding the drama. We should leave, he told himself again, but his feet still would not move.
Hermione responded in a low voice that Harry and Ginny could barely hear, "This is why we can't be together anymore, Ron. I just can't take these arguments. And we have so much to do with Harry still. He's found out something else and needs to talk to us. I don't want to fight anymore. It's taking too much out of me." She sounded exhausted.
After another pause, Ron finally conceded, "OK, Hermione. I know I'm a git, and I know that Harry has to come first now. Just know that I still like you a lot, no matter what stupid things I say. Maybe after Harry finally kills Voldemort . . . "
Ginny's eyes jerked at these last words, and Harry cringed. He should have made her move, but he could not help listening in on his friends breaking up. Ginny opened her mouth, but Harry put a finger to his lips, then pointed back to his room.
"You have to kill him?" Ginny asked accusingly the moment the door closed, "You never said you had to kill him."
"Of course I didn't tell you, Ginny. It's supposed to be a secret. You must promise never to tell anyone." Exasperated, Harry paced his room rapidly, greatly irritated by the unplanned disclosure of secret information. "Besides, I told you a bunch of times that what I have to do will be extremely dangerous and that I would probably die. Couldn't you put two and two together? Didn't you believe me?"
"I didn't put anything together because you wouldn't tell me anything," the red head retorted, equally irritated. "You wouldn't let me help. How was I supposed to know that you have to kill him? Why you? Let someone else kill him. You are a seventeen year old boy. Why should you be killing You Know Who? That makes no sense."
Harry looked at his former girlfriend sadly and did not know what to tell her now.
"It has to be me, Ginny. There's . . ., there's a prophecy. I'm the one." Ginny stared at him disbelievingly, and then looked down at the carpet in contemplation.
"But the prophecy broke. That's the one you're talking about, right? It broke at the Ministry before anyone heard it. You can't know what it said."
"It did break, but I know what it says. Dumbledore knew it, and he told me. It has to be me. Either I kill Voldemort, or he kills me." Harry cringed while saying this, for he truly did not want Ginny to know what he must do.
Ginny stared at him, not knowing what to say, and a wave of fear passed through her. Harry really would die. Yes, he had told her that before, but she did not truly believe it. Whatever he had to do would be dangerous, she knew, but in the end he would come out of it in one piece. But to have to kill You Know Who? Or to be killed by him? Harry had been telling the truth; he was going to be killed.
"It's just a prophecy, Harry. They aren't infallible; we learned that in Divination. Ignore it! Let someone else kill him. It doesn't have to be you." Harry shook his head.
"It's me, Ginny. Too much has happened. This prophecy is real. It's me." They stared into each other's eyes, Ginny's full of fear, Harry's calm and accepting. This was old news to him.
"I guess I should have put two and two together, like you said, but I didn't. How are you going to kill him? You're a powerful wizard, we all know that, but this is You Know Who!"
"The Prophecy says I can do it. I have the power to do it, but it doesn't mean that I will succeed. It only means that I have a chance. Nobody else can do it. I'll either kill Voldemort, or I'll die trying."
As the full realization of their conversation sunk in, Ginny stepped towards Harry and hugged him for the first time in months. It felt so good to Harry, who had missed their closeness of the past. They held each other tightly, but soon Harry realized that for the second time that day, he was embracing a weeping teen-aged girl, and he gently stroked her back to comfort her.
At that moment, Hermione knocked on the door, and after waiting a moment entered, as she normally did unless Harry told her not to if he was dressing. She herself appeared to be on the verge of tears but displayed her surprise at the sight of Ginny and Harry embracing. In a moment, she heard Ginny's sobs. Harry made eye contact with Hermione and with his head motioned for her to come in.
"What's happened?" she asked gently.
Not until then did Ginny realize that Hermione had entered, and she self-consciously released Harry and sat down on his bed, slumping forward.
"Ginny overheard Ron and you say that I have to kill Voldemort. I just told her about the prophecy."
Hermione immediately rushed towards the bed to comfort her friend, and the two most important women in Harry's life held each other closely. In a moment, Ginny's tears infected the already emotional Hermione, and she also started to cry, both from her break-up with Ron and from Ginny's anguish. Harry had no idea what to do, so he did nothing, but in the back of his mind, he told himself that he had had it up to his neck with crying females.
After they calmed themselves a minute or two later, both of the girls directed their moist eyes at Harry, who remained standing uncomfortably. None of them could think of anything to say.
Finally, Hermione looked at Ginny, and with resolve in her voice declared, "Harry's going to do it, Ginny. He's going to kill Voldemort. He's already done a lot. We're almost there. Don't give up on him!"
"Let me help, Harry," Ginny implored, "I can't let you go without trying to help you. This is my fight too. He's taken my home. He's taken my school. He almost took my brother. I have the right to fight too! Please let me help."
Her beautiful brown eyes glistened from her tears as she made her impassioned plea. Hermione's moist eyes also gazed up at him, supporting Ginny's request. Perhaps Harry could have resisted one of them, but the two together proved too much.
"OK," he sighed reluctantly, "You can help." He regretted uttering the words as soon as they left his mouth.