Guilty
by Ydream08
Chapter 5
"You've become a gossip," Hermione shot at Nott while nicking his newspapers away. While passing behind him, she had seen the new article.
Ginny and Harry were out with Ron and his new girlfriend- someone Hermione didn't know. They had made it to the second page of the newspaper, again catching Rita Skeeter's attention.
It has been two weeks since the scandal of the affair. Two pressing weeks of crumpling parchment after parchment, not quite writing the exact words that would help Hermione to figure out Harry was okay. She needn't worry about him, she supposed.
"What do you say?" Nott asked off-handedly. They were together on a breakfast for a change. It was a weekend.
Hermione cleared her throat and added energy to her tone, which only came out high-pitched."They love each other."
Hermione had no idea whether the first article was true, the one about Harry getting into a fist fight. But Hermione guessed, it was only more likely that it had been a rumour.
"We love each other, and you cheat on me always. Talking and being friends with everyone else," complained Nott with humour shining in his eyes.
Hermione lightly shoved him sideways on shoulders and smiled. "Shut up."
He snickered and their talk easily switched to what they would do over weekend.
She returned to Grimmauld Place for Christmas holidays. It made sense to stay back at Hogwarts actually, but Hermione decided against it in a moment that her courage threw caution to the wind and convinced her that she had to see Harry. That she had missed him.
Of course, she had missed him!
"Harry?" she called, cleaning the sooth of her clothes after the Floo travel. "Harry, I'm home!"
It happened so fast. Hermione heard footsteps, sliding, something crashing (was that a vase?) and suddenly Harry was over the threshold of the hall. He lept in few strides to her, and next, her feet were off the ground.
"You're back!" His voice was muffled how his face was buried in both her hair and fluffly winter coat.
His arm circling around her put her back on ground, but Harry didn't release his tight hold still.
"Missed you," Hermione whispered. She was high above the clouds enveloped in his warmth and welcoming. How could she have been away from him so long?
"I missed you, too."
Finally, they broke apart. Harry led her to the kitchen and they talked over his preparation of supper. They took their food to the living room, though. Opting to share a couch and fill each other in about what they missed out.
"Theodore Nott? Really?"
Hermione nodded, swallowing the bite of her pasta. "Yeah, nice guy actually. I'll go over to his place on New Year. I'll be here with you on New Year's Eve, but…"
"You didn't mention that," came Harry's hurt retort.
There was a silence in which their forks clanging the plates became to loud. It was because both knew how Hermione hadn't owled since leaving Grimmauld Place. Not even once.
"I must have forgotten."
She wanted to say that she had to forget—move on. Get her mind in the game and find her own path in the wizarding world.
"So," Hermione started. Friends would always have something to talk about. She cringed at the topic she was going to venture on, but the two of them had nothing else to talk about actually.
Hermione repeated that lie to herself as her curiosity opened her mouth: "How's everything with Ginny?"
Raising her eyes to meet with Harry's popped ones, Hermione added nervously. "And with the Weasleys in general?"
That article about some absurd affair had been months ago. Hermione doubted that Harry remembered it to connect her reasoning.
"Well, the same I guess. She's with Harpies," Harry sighed. "And I'm looking for a job."
"Job?" Hermione was surprised to hear her friend hadn't been employed yet. She never pictured Harry having a job, but she remembered how idle he had been past summer even with occasionally having Ginny around.
Harry didn't like to read. He wasn't keen on going outside for a walk (Merlin curse them all but he would be caught by news reporters). And Quidditch was not an option by himself. There was little else to do in Grimmauld Place.
Noticing how the furniture and the rooms were different, Hermione understood easily that the place had been renovated and Harry must have been busy orchestrating the whole thing and shouldering its cleaning afterwards. There was not a speck of dust in the room.
Harry must be going mad here.
"What do you have in mind?" Hermione couldn't see Harry working, to be honest. Not that he was lazy or anything. It was just that no profession seemed to fit.
"I don't know. I'm looking around, that's all."
They talked some more about unrelated things. How their mutual friends were doing or whether they had heard from them…
When it was finally time to tell goodnight and retreat to her room, Harry's voice stopped her.
"Will you read tonight?"
Her moment of confusion must have been plain on her face as he explained. "Before going to bed, you always read. Light reading, you know."
At that he smiled, fondly recalling the books Hermione would have for her light reading.
"Yes, actually. I was reading this historical-fantasy novel…" Hermione left the sentence there seeing how his face brightened.
"May I read, too? I mean, read together? Out loud or something?"
Hermione hadn't read Harry books ever since the hunt. They both knew the tale of Three Brothers by heart.
"Okay, just let me—" Hermione's words died with her gasp as Harry quickly shot to his feet on her confirmation.
They got comfortable in her bed. This was much better than how they would share the hard and rough ground of a tree bark. Their backs would hurt and limbs would ache.
Here, in Hermione's room that had a four-poster bed, it was much easier to dive to the tales without the earthly distractions.
Hermione sat her pillow to the bedhead, and crossed her legs under the blankets. Harry too popped up his pillow, but he was more lying down and ready to sleep than her. His eyes were closed and glasses were discarded.
The hunch that Harry needed the comfort and soothing only, and not particularly for the book to be read lingered in Hermione's mind as she turned page after page.
Harry needed her.
"I won't lie, Granger. This is the daftest idea I've ever heard."
Hermione ignored Theo to the best of her abilities but he was insistent that Peeves would not help them find what they were looking for. Or whom, more like it.
It was on April first, ironically, when she first saw him. It was hard to recognize without the mark of ginger in his hair—how could that be, ghosts were merely transparent, no colour whatsoever.
By the time Peeves was delighted enough to tell them where to find what they came looking for, Hermione and Theodore were both wearing four puddings each. Cream filled ones. With different colours.
The house-elves whom Peeves had stolen the puddings from must have been furious!
Not as furious as Theodore.
"Sorry," Hermione mumbled but managed to crook a smile. He sighed at that, whispering something about bloody Gryffindors.
Hermione fingered some cream off his face to lighten the mood, "You taste amazing, though."
Since she turned around to head to the revealed location, she didn't see Theodore Nott's flushed cheeks and neck.
"Took you long enough," came the joyous but tired voice.
Hermione smiled from ear to ear, but one good look at the young man in front of him, her eyes started to water.
"Tiny Hermionekins is crying, is she?"
Hermione laughed, "No!" But she was crying. Happy tears they were. "Nice to see you, Fred."
"I should be in school," Hermione groaned. Hating everything about tonight. Maybe not her black long sleeved languid dress that had an alluring back décolletage, but the rest of tonight she didn't like one bit.
It was second of May. First anniversary of the end of the War.
They had given speeches, mourned the ones they loved, reflected on future with great expectations.
Hermione hated every second of it. It made her anxious. It made her head ache- heart ache. Sometimes the camera flashes were too bright. Her scar itched. There was a cackle in her head. Echoing. Echoing. And there came a voice: "We'll talk- girl to girl!"
Tonight made Hermione recall everything she tried hard to forget.
She wanted to be home. If she started her study, she could forget everything. She was positive she could.
One month was not enough till the exams, anyway.
"I think that's enough of appearances for you guys." The baritone voice was familiar but Hermionce couldn't place it. How unfocused she was with her sight, and her mind else where, it was a miracle she even heard the conversation around.
"Thank you, Kingsley. Now if you don't mind."
The hand on her back led her outside and the first lick of cold wind on her skin brought some sense to Hermione.
"Harry?"
Looking at him, seeing him, properly, Hermione couldn't hold back her tears.
Everything was over. In front of her was stood no boy with gangly arms and smooth face, but a young man of short beard, harsh eyes and better built.
His hair, the blackest she had ever seen, was a ghost of Sirius Black's with how long it was growing. Still quite unruly, unlike the older man's.
This year, in her absence, Harry had grown—changed.
His elastic tie hardly keeping his hair together, Hermione thought how there was still room for change. They were yet to be adults.
They had time—all the time in the world.
His arm came around her and before Hermione registered what was happening, the twist of Side-Apparition left her breathless.
Yepp, two chapters more should wrap this up! ~Ydream08