A/N: Welcome back, peeps! Hope you all had a great week. I certainly did. I saw JOHN WICK 4 yesterday and OMG! One of the greatest actions movies ever made. Keanu killed it. Anyway, you're not here for that. You want to know what other fucked up shit Harry and Hermione get up to. So, I will not keep you waiting any longer so without further ado...
CHAPTER 4: Priorities change
Showered and changed into a pair of navy-blue cotton trousers and a matching jacket with a white shirt peeking beneath it, Hermione left the gym around nine and a second later was standing in an empty alley between two identical buildings in the borough of Manhattan. She walked along a couple of blocks before arriving at a tall, glass building in 5th Avenue. She used the lift to the top floor, stepped out, walked through the hallway before stopping in front of a door labeled, 1, opened it and stepped inside.
She removed her shoes and placed them on the shoe rack. The short hallway had one door a little way further to her left while the right wall was covered with frames, from family photos to scenic wallpapers, all almost identical in size except for a large rectangular glass frame plastered right in the middle of the wall, showcasing the beaming faces of her small family. John and her sitting on identical chairs with their daughters perched on both their laps.
The hallway merged into a large lobby. She drank in the sight before her. She never grew tired of the view no matter how old it got. The floor to ceiling windows spanning the entire length of the wall with the curtains pulled to opposite ends, the city of New York shining in the night sky. It was breathtaking. She half wished to walk out onto the balcony but refrained because the weather had grown significantly harsher since her trek up the lift, the snow now pelting in golf-sized balls.
The wall opposite the curtain wall – adjacent to the hallway entrance - was equally breathtaking, inked with beautiful, intricate patterns, rainbow of colors bending and curving at odd angles that created a hypnotic design. A large fireplace – eight feet tall and a meter wide – was nestled right in the middle of the mural – predominantly used for floo but for the time being spread the warmth from the logs burning inside the crate.
Blue marble wallpaper coated the walls and a crystal ring chandelier hung from the high ceiling, and along with four rectangular LED panels lit up the room in a light yellow and silver glow.
A ridiculously large, black leather flow sofa – could easily fit more than ten people - was perched in the middle with four leather recliners sitting on either side of it, forming a semi-circle. A dark wood square coffee table rested a few feet in front of the sofa.
The lobby had two archways on opposite ends, one led to the open kitchen and the dining room while the other give on to all the rooms through an adjoining corridor.
The sound of a door clicking shut from further inside the apartment to her right reached her as she dropped her bag on the sofa.
She removed her jacket and threw it haphazardly on the sofa as the noise of footsteps, padding softly, filled the silence, growing louder with every step. She took out a miniature version of her bag from her right trouser pocket before turning it back to its natural size and dropping it over her jacket. She turned around and flopped heavily onto the sofa, exhaling a deep sigh, the leather sagging under her weight as she squirmed slightly to get more comfortable, kicking her shoes off along with her socks, she propped them onto the coffee table just as John arrived through the archway.
"Hey" he sounded surprised.
"Hey yourself" she tried to muster a smile, but, in her tiredness, could only manage a small tilt of her mouth.
His eyes briefly wandered to her bag before snapping back to her.
"Weren't expecting you for another hour" he walked over and stopped behind the recliner furthest from her, placing his hands on top of it.
She shrugged her shoulders. "I skipped the Pilates session-" Her mouth parted in a long yawn. She continued a few moments later. "Didn't have the energy."
"Oh...right"
She didn't need to glance up at him to see the disappointment flash across his face – the tone in his voice made that quite evident - and trying but failing to mask it beneath a stoic expression. She knew what he wanted to hear and if they hadn't fought this morning and if he hadn't further managed to piss her off at her office, she may have obliged him and offered the full lie instead the half-baked version she presented currently – was she tired, yes, was that the reason she chose to come early, no, Josh had to cut their time short because of dinner at his parents' house, thus, her early arrival. A version she'd only had to use a handful of times considering she was rarely back this early. Usually, she didn't arrive until ten and a handful of times even as late as eleven, but those were few and far between, no more than twice a month and happened only when she'd worked up a ravenous appetite after cycling for an hour and had a terrible hankering for ice-cream that only Sedutto's - a cozy little spot down at 1st avenue – could satisfy. Well, that's what she told him at least while the truth was that during those late nights, she and Josh went out for the night and visited places that could sate her more salacious desires.
But as she looked up at him, a feeling so foreign to her crept its way into her heart at seeing his face look so crestfallen that it took her a moment to discern what it was, and with a start she realized it to be guilt. She was almost left breathless with the sudden realization that how fucked up it was that this is what made her feel guilty and not when she first broke her oath to him – I promise to be supportive, loyal and faithful... - and then continued to do so without feeling any shame, she had stuffed the guilt so far up her arse that not once did she feel its presence. But now, somehow it managed to break free and as she looked back at his gloomy face, eyebrows lowered and pulled closer together, eyes downcast and without their usual sparkle, she figured out the reason.
Hope, or more precisely, its last remnants still lingering across his face.
Of course, how daft could she be. She wanted to plunge her head under water and scream till she could no more. Her mind wandered back a couple of minutes and as she analyzed their brief interaction, she could see it clearly.
"Hey" Previously, she'd only noticed the surprise in his voice and not the slightly breathy quality to it. When one has been married nearly nine years every little nuance of their partner is as well etched into one's mind as the feel of their skin and Hermione was nothing if not intuitive, and she knew what that little puff of air meant. He was shocked but excited and trying very hard to simper that excitement down, waiting for the opportune moment to release it, but never got to because she thrust it back into the pit with her half lie.
That was cruel, even for her, and the guilt only intensified the more she remunerated on it. She wished she could take it back, hell, she wished she could go back in time and instead of coming home early wandered aimlessly around the city for another hour to be consisted with their pattern.
The pattern being her arriving at her habitual time around ten, eating dinner alone at the dining table while constantly feeling John's eyes on her as he leaned against the kitchen island until she couldn't stand it anymore and would snap at him which would lead into their nightly row. That was the only time they fought, when the kids were asleep, even if some nights he fell asleep early he won't say a thing the next morning or all day and only bring it up when kids were down for the count. That's how it's been going on for months until this very morning when he had surprised her – not in a good way – by bringing it up in the early hours of the morning. She'd been so shocked that it took her a moment to gather herself and rebuttal back and when she did, she held nothing back, kids be damned. It went on for thirty minutes and the screaming was so loud that neither one were aware of the girls sobbing hysterically just a few feet away. She didn't give a fuck that they he'd already gone to bed when she arrived. They'd assembled a routine, an unspoken agreement, and it clearly stated that all this, his issues and her justifications, they died with the night.
Guess he finally couldn't take it anymore; she remembered thinking when the door banged behind him as he left for work and she mentally started preparing herself for more of these interactions from now on.
Adaptability, she considered it to be one of her major strengths, but she knew it was going to be a challenge moving forward. Mostly she was concerned about the kids.
However, she still would've preferred their daily fights, even the one this morning because she knew she could get adjusted to this knew pattern if that's what he decided, and if things kept getting worse...well she'll think about it when it got to that but, she would take that all over than the half lie she carelessly sprouted at him. That was deceiving of the most terrible kind, give him a twinge of hope – the reason for her coming early was to spend some time with her family, with him - and then steal it right back, she can't remember the last time she hated herself so much...well she did but she wasn't going to go down that route, ever.
Shaking her head, she focused her attention back on him. His head was still turned down, hands flexing from where they were gripping the top of the recliner, squeezing the leather. She inwardly cringed at the squeaking sound.
Clearing her throat, she garnered his attention and this time actually succeeded in mustering a warm smile. His expressions softened immediately and the guilt pooling deep in her gut increased tenfold.
"Come" she patted the spot next to her.
He shot her a small smile in return and walked over to her. She shifted in her seat, so she was facing him as he sat down, curling her left leg so her foot pressed against the knee of her right leg which was on the ground.
"What time did you arrive?"
He scratched his stubble before answering. "Six"
She nodded, propping her elbow against the side of the sofa and resting her head against her palm. "I didn't make it back to the office till seven."
His eyebrows rose up. "Really"
"Hmm" A light frown came over her features as she opened her mouth and plucked a stray hair from her tongue. She swiped it against the leather in disgust.
His eyes wrinkled in amusement and lines appeared under her own as her lips curled at the corners.
"So, I guess you won't having the garlic soup I made."
She let out a very unladylike snort that sounded very close to a sound a pig would make.
"Wow!" hard lines appeared on his face as his smile broadened. "Ok, I wasn't sure before because having hair for dinner didn't quite seem that out to me – don't ask me why - but after your cute imitation of a horny pig I'm convinced you're high on edibles."
She doubled over in laughter, hand resting over her stomach as tears started forming at the corner of her eyes. "Oh...oh god...stop" she patted his thigh. "Don't say anything more or I won't be able to breathe" she wheezed, gasping for air.
He acquiesced, lifting his hands.
It took her nearly a minute before she calmed down.
"So, what kept you so late at Sanctuary."
She wiped the tear trails from her cheeks as she answered. "Made the rounds"
He squinted his eyes. "Fortnightly reports. Didn't you do one last week?"
She nodded "I did, but I made an exception for today since I was already there and had a free day. Plus, I'm not sure I would be back by Monday from the expedition."
"Free day? What about that report on centaur rights"
"Finished."
"Of course, it is" His eyes shone with exasperation and fondness.
"I plugged away last week because I wanted to finish the report before the expedition. It was taking a lot of my time. I even had to shuffle a few appointments."
"The expedition is on Thursday, right."
She nodded.
"You seriously think it's worth your while. I mean I'm sure the research team charted down every little thing in their report."
"I've seen the report and it's not what I'm interested in, it's very narrow in scope, focused simply on the creature. My paper isn't just going to be on the beast, my aim is to write a deeply informative thesis that encapsulates everything, the where, the why, the how, the when and that includes the cave the beast chose as its haven for the last 15 years."
"Is that confirmed" asked John.
She nodded. "That's as far as the wards date according to Zeldorn and I trust him. He's the best curse breaker I know." She turned a contemplative stare out the window. "Which doesn't make any sense to me…...the creature is well over a millennia old….we've confirmed it, over and over….so where was it before….." She shook her head. "There are still so many unanswered questions. Like, what made him choose the cave as his home and why did he break the wards….why come out of hiding now… there are a lot of things we don't understand as of yet."
"Hmm" he covered his mouth as he let out a loud yawn. "What about the results, were they as disappointed as you feared."
"Actually, yes, but we believe we've figured it out, or Emmett certainly thinks so. He is very hopeful."
"That's what you said the pervious time."
"I know but I believe him this time. I mean I can't be hundred percent sure till the results arrive, but his hypothesis does sound very convincing"
"Let's hope he can work his magic cause time is running out."
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that" She saw the tension spreading across his face and placed her hand on his knee. "Listen to me. Three more days. I swear this is it. Emmett is gone to Salem to research in The Hall of Secrets. He says he needs a week and then we need a couple of days for the results. Plus, this way you could make the announcement on Monday."
She waited with bated breath as his silence kept prolonging, his eyes gazing at the mural though from her point of view they didn't seem focused on any particular spot.
He faced her a couple of minutes later. "Okay, but-" He lifted a finger as a wide smile broke out on her face.
She raised her eyebrows and waited for him to continue. "I want us to talk after I'm back. Really talk"
Her smile dimmed till it was barely visible. Deep down she knew what he was going to say before the words left his mouth. She reasoned she could give him that. A real talk. She knew it won't profit anyone. The only thing that conversation will accomplish is enlarge the pile of lies and false promises.
"Alright"
She saw his shoulders sag as the tension dissipated from his face. That made her reevaluate her previous musings. Maybe they really did need to have this talk if that's how strung up he was and that reaction made her think that maybe she needed to ponder more deeply at the mess she'd made of their marriage.
Harry apparated straight from the apartment to the cottage's living room at quarter past ten. He peered through the windows at the grey hue hanging in the air outside. It wasn't snowing, but the chill in the air was ten times worse than a few hours prior. With a wave of his wand, he shut the windows before walking into his room. The room was dark and gloomy, and made for a very bleak and depressing sight. Fog clinging to the outside of the window barely let any light pass through it.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, elbows perched on his knees, eyes locked onto his palms as blood dripped between his fingers and from the sides of his hands in thick rivulets.
As the liquid pooling in his palms dissolved onto the floor, leaving behind a dry mess, his gaze concentrated on the gashes crisscrossing one another.
The sting was sharp as some of the roaring gush of air slithered through the small gap between the sill and the window, but it was enough as it cut through his skin.
The images came crashing down once again, enveloping his mind. Katrina's pale skin turned red and burning like molten lava. After he was done with her, used her to satisfy his carnal needs, he was so blissed out – both in his release and the anticipation bubbling inside him after he'd made his decision to leave – that it didn't register to him until long after she'd left the abuse he'd laid on her, but, once it did, it felt like being hit by a hundred bludgers at once. Flashes of images, imprinted in his mind, his hand on her throat, squeezing the life out of her, the prints of his hand marked over her arse cheeks, her screams of terror.
His breathing started getting heavier as his nostrils flared. It had never reached this level of mania before. She had been the only woman who had stuck with him for so long, others barely made it pass one time. They all called him names after he was done with them, some even stopped him while he was in motion, names that shook him to his very core, one in particular. In the past his justification had always been the same, that he was all those things, a monster, a savage, a brute, a fiend, a rapist. The acceptance made it bearable because he truly believed it.
Katrina was the only one who never said anything, it was like she understood what he needed, no matter how rough he got with her, she never complained, once. In fact, she enjoyed it, encouraged it even, until their pervious dalliance. That was the first time he saw something akin to fear in her eyes, and then today it was etched all over her face. It had never gotten this worse before. Every time he was finished with her, he would reach his hand over and rub a small circle over her thigh and she would reciprocate the gesture. An unspoken agreement that it was alright, she was okay, he had nothing wrong. She didn't reciprocate today. Five minutes after they were done, she got up and left without a word as he basked in post orgasmic glory. Something overcame him this time around. He felt more unhinged, more deranged, more demented, he could feel it while he was pounding into her. Was it because of the anxiety over his choice, it had to be. He had already made his decision before he texted her, or at the very least knew which way he was leaning towards. He had never felt so disjointed having sex before, mind and body working separately, no cohesion at all. Yeah, that had to be it. His emotions were all over the place. It was too much, especially for someone as broken as him, and like the coward he was he didn't fight to keep them under control, and as always chose the easy path and let them take over his mind, body and soul. The result was horrific, but he knew it could've been much worse which is why he kept his punishment to a moderate level. A simple freezing spell cast on a spot on the floor in the room of his apartment, shards sticking out of the ground as he sat on his knees before swiping his hands into the shards from left to right, back and forth till his palms represented a messed-up bloodied version of tic-tac-toe with the outer layer of palms peeled back till all that remained was raw skin and even a soft touch burned like hell.
Sex was his only outlet, the only time he felt some semblance of calm, the only time he felt the world wasn't closing in on him every-fucking-second.
He couldn't lose it and there weren't many options open to him. He wasn't sure if he would find another Katrina.
As he dragged his gaze back to his hands, his mind wandered back to Olivia. That experience was unlike anything he'd known. He didn't think much about it after it was done, or until now, mainly because he is not sure what to make of it. All he knew is that it was the best sex he'd ever had. He'd never been with someone like her, someone who craved control as much as he did and knew how to take it. Some of his previous partners did want to take control or be dominate but he never let them, he over powered them through his strength, but that was not the case with Olivia as she didn't back down. She was so sure of herself and of her pleasure. Even girls who did this for a living didn't come close to her confidence and her abilities and skill, and that's the only reason he could think he let her get away with it. It was the shock value. She'd let him take his pleasure any which way he wanted and he'd been vicious with his pleasure, but she moaned like a knockturn alley whore the deeper he thrusted, the harder he slapped her arse, the tighter he gripped her throat. She took it all in stride and when he'd sated his desire, she took over and showed him another side of pleasure, where she repeated his actions back to him, give him a taste of his own medicine. The pleasure was so intense that he couldn't tell her to stop, which was his first instinct and most importantly, his biggest fear didn't come to fruition, her actions didn't take him thirteen years back when someone else took control over his body, unlike the last time he let his partner take charge in bed. That was ten years ago.
He shook his head, not able to make any sense of it all. All he knew was that Olivia was an exception and he couldn't simply travel to Reine every week, even if she was willing.
The roar of fire made him sit up straight and snap his gaze to the door.
"Harry, you bastard, where you at!"
His shoulders slumped as he breathed a sigh before a small smile curved at his lips. He got up as running footsteps filled the silence and a few seconds later Ron came charging through the door.
The red head's face split into a wide grin before he lunged forward and tackled the bespectacled wizard onto the bed, which moaned and creaked under their combined weight.
"Oof!" Harry chuckled. "Ron, you big oaf, get off!" he patted his shoulder.
Ron squeezed him tight around the midriff before scampering off of him. He offered Harry his hand. Harry grabbed it and Ron pulled him up before hugging him again.
A warm smile came over Harry's face as he rolled his eyes before enveloping his arms around his friend's much wider body.
It won't be unfair to say that Ron had let himself go since school. The once tall and lanky redhead now weighed 120 kilos. Though that would mark someone as overtly obese, his best friend had the advantage of height. At nearly six feet and five inches, he cut an ominous figure.
"How did you know I was back" Harry asked him as he pulled back.
"There was soot in the fireplace" Ron eyes shone with happiness. "Merlin, I missed you, mate."
"Ron, I was only gone for a week."
Ron's eyes widened comically. "And that's a lot" he exclaimed. "Do you know how much has happened since then"
"No-"
"First, the Cannons lost" he held up a finger as he cut him off. "That alone is going to take us all night. Seriously Harry, Stingler is running them to the ground, I swear. I say we use our influence to kick him out"
"Ron-"
"Secondly, Rose just told me that she doesn't want to be a quidditch player, anymore. Could you believe that. I nearly had a heart attack. Pansy said she is only 11 and she will go through countless career changes before she finishes Hogwarts, so that is hopeful, right" he asked pleadingly.
"Of course, mate" Harry nodded affirmatively and barely controlled the laughter forcing its way out of his mouth.
"Great" Ron sighed in relief. "Third, the Weasley Christmas Hampers sold out with in the first two hours which is brilliant and terrifying. The next stock will arrive today."
"Ron, that's great news. I knew how anxious you were regarding them. I told you the ads were brilliant."
"Yeah" Ron smiled, slightly out of breath. "They were"
"Is that it?" Harry lifted an eyebrow.
"Mostly"
Harry put an arm around his shoulder and led them to the living room. "Coffee?"
"Yeah"
Harry walked into the kitchen as Ron pulled out the chair from the table lined next to island before plopping heavily down on it.
"Would you learn to sit properly. You're gonna break it."
Ron waved him off. "You can fix it with a flick of your wrist."
"That's not the point" muttered Harry as he put the pot on the stove. He took out a carton of milk from the fridge.
"So, how was your trip?"
Harry waited a beat before answering. "It was good."
He swore under his breath at his mistake.
"Alright, what happened."
"What do you mean, nothing happened" he responded casually, pouring the milk in.
"Harry" sighed Ron.
Harry leaned on his hands at the counter as he briefly closed his eyes. Ron waited patiently, staring up at him in a slightly concerning manner.
"I...I met...someone" Ron's face spread into a wide smile.
"Harry! That's bloody brilliant. Merlin, finally!"
"Hang on" Harry opened his eyes and faced him. He bit the inside of his mouth, a bad habit that had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember. "It's not as you think" Ron motioned him to continue. "I fucked up...again."
The happiness dissipated from Ron's eyes as he heaved a sigh. He leaned his elbows on the island and stared up at Harry with warmth in his eyes. "It's alright, mate. She just wasn't the one."
Harry frustratingly shook his head. "Anyway..."
"So, tell me a bit more about her. What was she like?"
Harry took a deep breath as he ran a hand through his hair. "She was lovely, was there on a break. We went on walks every night, hours long." He looked up to find Ron smirking at him. "What"
"Did you show her that parseltongue has its uses as well"
Harry snorted before he turned somber. The smirk disappeared from Ron's face and Harry could see the coil's working in his brain.
"Was that where it went wrong" Ron asked hesitantly.
"No" Harry shook his head. "We didn't get to that part."
He saw the tension leave Ron's shoulders.
"But yeah..." he trailed off. He turned the stove off, poured the steaming milk in two cups before adding cocoa powder. He put two spoons of sugar in one.
He walked out of the kitchen and handed Ron the one with sugar and was about to sit when Ron grabbed his wrist.
"What the fuck" whispered Ron, staring at his hands.
Harry jerked them away and sat down. He took a sip before looking up at him. Ron's face was red with anger.
"Don't" he said, before taking another sip.
Ron turned his head down and Harry's gaze flickered over to his clenched fist on the table.
"Merlin, Harry!" growled Ron.
"Don't!" He shot him a glare. Ron shook his head but kept his mouth shut. Thick silence surrounded the pair as they sipped their drinks.
A few minutes later Ron looked up at him. "So, did you find the beast you were looking for?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah. I went to Dennis' this morning, handed him the pictures. He seemed happy."
"Hmm" Ron drowned the remaining drink in one gulp. "Alright" he rubbed his hands excitedly. "I'm heading back to work. I'll meet you at the pub around seven. Man, I'm so excited!" he chuckled, standing up. "Come on empty stomach cause we're gonna be there all night. Dammit, that reminds me I have to inform Pansy about our plans as well. You know how she hates it when I don't eat the food she makes, which is rare, but she did say she was cooking tonight."
"Ron" Harry stood up as well as Ron looked over his shoulder on his way to the fireplace.
"Yeah" Ron said turning around.
"I can't"
A frown came over Ron's face as he stopped and faced him.
"Can't what"
"Come to the pub"
"What!" he yelled, aghast, as if he couldn't comprehend it. "Why the fuck not"
"I'm leaving tomorrow...early, that's why."
"Leaving? Tomorrow? Where? Why?"
"For work"
Ron spluttered, spreading his arms out. "What are you on about. You just got back. I don't understand – you – you always take minimum of two weeks break between every trip."
Harry sighed. "I know but this is different."
"What's so bloody special about this" Ron folded his arms.
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose before looking back at him. "Look, I don't know much. This is just what Dennis told me. Apparently, a thousand-year-old beast has been found and he wants me to get the pictures so he can be the first to publish them. If it's true it would greatly help him and he needs it, trust me. Things are not good for his family right now" He was surprised at how easily the lies spilled from his mouth. Obviously, the facts were correct but that had nothing to do with him leaving. He couldn't care less about this beast and as much as he hated himself to admit it, he wasn't doing this for Dennis either. It was plainly for his own selfish reasons.
"Harry, you can't just pack up and leave just because Dennis said so. You said it yourself that he's desperate." Ron lifted his hand when Harry opened his mouth. "I'm not saying he's lying, I'm sure this is what he was told but let's face it, Dennis sees smoke even when there is no fire."
Ron walked over to him.
Harry lifted his chin up in resolution and leveled him with a stare. "I believe him."
He didn't. He believed it was just a smoke show. He believed Dennis was being played, won't be the first time.
Ron's brow furrowed in the middle as he stared at him for a moment.
"And why can't he go?"
"He's strapped for money. He's even doing photoshoots for Witch's Weekly to make ends meet."
"But I thought the magazine was doing fine"
"It is but like you said, it's just doing fine which was okay the first few months but it's been six months now and he's barely earning any profit"
"Hmm, and where exactly did they find this beast. What's his source? Surely, he gave you that information, or did he not."
He hesitated. Fuck.
"America" Ron's eyes narrowed slightly, and he arched an eyebrow.
"Where in America"
He hesitated, again, but this time it was more than a few seconds and when he spoke his voice came out as a croaked whisper.
"New York"
He could literally hear Ron's jaw clenching and unclenching.
"Who gave him the information, Harry?" he asked calmly, though his face belied it.
"His friend – best friend"
"And what does this friend do?"
This was it. He mentally prepared himself for the explosion. Closing his eyes, he whispered. "He works at Sanctuary."
His eyes remained shut as he waited, and waited, and when nothing happened and the silence kept prolonging, he opened them.
In all his years knowing Ron, he'd never seen him look as angry as he did now. His face was livid, a darker shade of red than his hair.
"Are you fucking mental" he growled, spit flying from his mouth.
"Listen to me - "
"No! You listen to me. You're out of your fucking mind if you think for one second that I'm going to let you do this"
Harry's eyes narrowed into slits, and he felt something snap inside him.
"I wasn't asking you" he hissed back.
"Well, you damn well know why!"
"Yeah, and why is that."
"Because you knew what my answer was going to be."
"I don't give a fuck about your answer!"
"WELL, YOU SHOULD!"
"WHY SHOULD I"
"BECAUSE I'M YOUR BEST FRIEND AND I DON'T WANT TO LOSE YOU!"
Simultaneously, all three windows in the room shattered and a massive gust of wind swarmed inside. The next second the cupboards in the kitchen blew open, sending everything inside flying in every direction, plates and cups smashing mid-air and into the walls. The round table where Ron sat previously cracked in half.
All that happened while the two friends kept glaring at one another.
Ron's face twisted into one of agony as tears filled the corner of his eyes.
"I've already lost so much of you..." he wept. "Don't cross to the other side, Harry...where I won't be able to save you" He wiped at his eyes before turning around and walking towards the fireplace.
He grabbed a fistful of powder and had one foot in the chamber when he looked over his shoulder with red rimmed eyes. "Anyone who causes you nothing but pain isn't worth it...I don't care who they are…not even her...and to voluntarily chase them...maybe I'm fooling myself and I've already lost you."
"This isn't about her." Harry said thickly. "This is about me. I'm doing this for me."
Ron shook his head as pain as his shoulders deflated in defeat. "Keep telling yourself that."
A second later he was gone.
Harry dropped down onto the sofa and remained there all day. Hands folded under his head he kept staring at the ceiling. He didn't eat, didn't drink, didn't do anything, except let the memories wash over him. Memories from a time when everything was bleak, his future uncertain, when everyday could've been last...but, when he still had hope, in himself, in others, and most importantly when his heart was full of love. If he was going to do this, fight the fear that has consumed him for so long, then he needed to start at the very beginning.
1997
March 21st
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
A sixteen-year-old Harry Potter was hurrying down the staircase from the headmaster's office. His heart was beating erratically. He took off the moment he stepped off the last step.
"Out of my way!" he shouted at a group of fifth years huddled together in the middle of the corridor. They broke apart as he whisked past them.
A few minutes later, he skidded to a halt in front of the portrait of the fat lady. Heaving and gasping, he took a moment to catch his breath before saying the password and dashing inside. He stopped as he reached the common room, eyes tracking for a particular head of hair. He frowned when he didn't see it anywhere. cursing under his breath he took off once more.
His shoes made a squeaking sound as he once again tried to stop his momentum by skidding as he reached the doors of the library, however, he couldn't keep his balance this time. His feet gave away and he tried to twist his body at the last moment so he could brace his fall with his hands, but he wasn't able to make the full turn. He shut his eyes just before he landed on his side with his head making the first contact with the ground.
It felt like a bomb had exploded inside his head. He kept groaning for several seconds and unfortunately for him the hall was empty and his hope that someone would help him died away as a pool of blood collected around his head. The last thing he heard was someone shouting his name.
Stale smell wafted into his nose as his senses returned and his eyes fluttered open. He didn't need his glasses to know where he was at, he was as familiar to the smell of the infirmary as he was to his own sweat.
He turned his head and reached his arm out towards the bedside table where he knew his glasses would be. However, a book snapping shut stopped him as he saw a blurry figure come to stand beside the bed and a second later felt the soft caress of knuckles along his cheek as his glasses were being lightly pushed onto his face, the warmth seeping from the hands took away the throbbing pain from his temple. His lips curled up as the intoxicating smell of citrus, honey, and ink enveloped him.
His focus readjusted and the first thing he saw was her face, though, not the greeting he'd hoped. His smile vanished faster than a firebolt at watching her staring at him with barely suppressed anger on her face.
He gulped as he sat up.
She took her seat on the chair beside his bed and dropped the book she'd been reading on the bed before fixing him with a glare.
"Do you have a dying wish."
His lips parted but no sound came.
"Well, if that's the case then why don't you just jump off the Astronomy tower and be done with it for once."
"Hermione - "
"I'm sick of it, Harry...I'm sick and tired of it" she let out a long sigh. "I won't always be around, you know, or Ron." His eyes turned wide at her words but she paid him no attention and marched on. "You have to be able to take care of yourself, now more than ever."
"What do you mean you won't always be around" he hated how small his voice sounded.
She sighed, tilting her head back before dropping her gaze back at him. "I mean we don't know where our lives will take us"
"But we'll always be together...Hermione?"
She chuckled but there was no amusement in her eyes. "Yeah, sure Harry" she shook her head.
"Why are you behaving like this?"
Her face hardened as she fixed him with a hard stare. "Because you're asking stupid questions! I mean, come off it, Harry, we barely spend any time together anymore."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "That's not because of me, Hermione. Just this week, I looked for you every day, but I hardly ever found you and when I did you just flipped me away by saying that you were busy"
"Well, because I was" her voice turned a pitch higher. She looked around to make sure no one was disturbed before turning back to him. "Studies may not be that important to you, Harry, but they are to me and unlike you I don't have a book filled with cheat codes to help me, not that I would ever use it" she finished in disdain.
"So, that's what this is it about, isn't it." he sneered. "The book. Fine, if it troubles you that much, I will give it back."
She scoffed. "No point now there is it when we've only got a little over two months left. You've sucked everything out of it by now, might as well keep it."
"I can't believe that's what you've been so hung upon. A book. I can't-" he shook his head. "You do realize how self-centered you're sounding now, don't you. Just because for once you weren't at the top of the class it irks you so much that you don't even care it was your best friend who took your spot. All that talk about wanting to be better and aiming higher was just all talk then."
"How dare you" she seethed, standing up. "Me, without whom you wouldn't have passed half of your classes and now you have the gall to accuse me of being self-centered, of saying that I crave attention."
"That's not what I said."
"It's what you were implying!"
"Fine, right. That's what I was implying but I'd be forgiven based on your behavior. See it from my perspective, Hermione. My best friend, who's never once left my side, believed in me when no one did and protected me when I didn't even know what the threat was, suddenly starts to behave in a way that I don't even recognize her anymore. I've lost count of how many times you've yelled at me, made me feel like I'm worse than trash, shot me down before I'm even done talking as if I'm sprouting nothing but nonsense whereas before you used listened to everything I said, even when you didn't agree with me...you still listened, Hermione. You always listened to me."
He didn't realize he was crying till he tasted the salt on his lips.
He wiped at his eyes, sniffling, before looking up at her. Her own eyes were brimming with tears and her shoulders were shaking.
She opened her mouth and, in a voice filled with tremor, whispered "Well, priorities change, Harry."
She turned on her heel and walked away.
Present
He shot up as the floo roared to life and turned his head in its direction. A second later Ron was standing in the exact spot he stood hours earlier. However, this time he was carrying a bag. He put the bag on the ground and shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing around the mess he'd made before facing him with a sheepish smile.
"Sorry about that"
"Don't worry about it" Harry swung his legs onto the ground and stood up.
"I'll fix it" He took out his wand and a few seconds later everything was back to normal. He tucked his wand back in waistband.
"What's with the bag?" asked Harry.
"Oh, that's my luggage" Ron looked down at it. "I meant to pack light, but you know Pansy's philosophy. "It's better to have than not need it than to need it and not have."
Harry nodded before arching an eyebrow. "Yeah, but I still don't understand why do you have it. You didn't mention about going somewhere earlier today."
"Because I didn't know I was going somewhere earlier today" Ron said pointedly.
Harry's eyes turned wide, and he started shaking his head.
"Ron, no...you can't...I can't ask you to – not for me"
"Shut up, will ya" Ron walked over to him and put his hands on his shoulders. "Listen mate, I'll make it as plain and simple so even you can understand it, alright." He paused for a few seconds before continuing. "I'm coming" he shrugged his shoulders. "Now, you can whine and cry about it and we can fight it out if that's what it takes but I'm coming." He took a deep breath, staring at the ground before glancing back at him. "I don't know what your reasons are...I don't need to know if you don't want to tell me, I'm fine with that, not a problem for me, but there is no way I'm letting you do this – whatever this is – on your own. I know I'm not always the brightest bulb in the room, but I know this is very important to you, and if I didn't support you now then I will never be able to live with myself. I know this isn't going to be easy for you and if I'm right in assuming what this trip is all about then you're going to be at your most vulnerable and I just want you to know that you won't be alone...I'll be right beside you."
Ron squeezed his shoulder as he swallowed a lump. He covered Ron's hand before nodding, afraid that if he opened his mouth he would break down.
"Awesome" Ron stepped back. "So, when are we leaving?"
Harry cleared his throat to get his bearings back. He ran a hand through his hair. "Umm, morning, after I've informed Dennis of my decision."
"Great, cause Pansy wants you to have dinner with us and she said that if you don't come then she will personally haul your arse back from America."
"You didn't tell her anything, did you" Harry asked.
"Mate" Ron spread his arms. "C'mon, I still haven't told her about the bet I lost last week."
The two friends chuckled before Ron's gaze dropped to Harry's hands, caked in dry blood.
Harry followed his gaze and involuntarily closed his fists.
"You need to clean that. Forget the kids, that will give Pansy nightmares for the rest of her life which in turn would make my life hell"
Harry swallowed before answering in a hoarse breath. "Can you perform the spell. I don't think I'll be able to, my nerves are too strung up. I'll probably end up cutting my wrist."
Ron pulled his wand out as Harry held his hands between them, palms pointed at the ceiling. "I can only clean the blood. I don't know how to get rid of the scars."
"That's fine. Neither do I."
"Weren't you an auror at one point?"
"Shut up, you know I was never good at healing charms. I'll put a glamour on. Plus, it's not like they're going to be staring at my hands."
"Evanesco" whispered Ron. The blood was sucked into the tip of the wand like small fragments of dust. He looked up to find Harry staring out the window, his expression melancholic.
"What" Ron asked.
Harry turned to him and sighed. "It's been almost five months since I've seen Teddy."
Ron nodded in understanding, clapping him on the back. "C'mon, I'm sure it will be fine" he steered him towards the fireplace and a few moments later they vanished in emerald flames.
A/N: Well guys...what did you think. We got our first peek into the past, it's just the start.