A/N – As I said in the last A/N, this story didn't write the way I wanted it to based on my original idea, I can't help it, once the characters start doing their own thing, I've no control over them! Anyway, I actually wasn't too happy with where it went, my original idea wasn't for a straightforward HHr finally getting it together, I've already done that, but with everything else I've got going on, I seemed to be falling back on old ideas subconsciously, so I'm not going to spend a ton of time on this, but I do want to conclude it, which will be this.
My next update after this will be the next chapter of Somewhere In Time. I'm going to park the original idea for this story until SiT is much further on. I already have one other story on hiatus (which, being honest, I'll probably abandon and take down for the time being), I don't want the same to happen to SiT – I am actually enjoying writing that one!
Chapter 2 – Depth of Satan's Eyes
With a deep breath, Hermione took the last couple of steps and walked around the curtain. As soon as she saw Harry lying there, as thin as he was the first time she saw him all those years ago, she couldn't help herself and burst into another set of flooding tears. "H….H…..Harry…"
Instinct took over. Gone was the distant girl of the last couple of years, back was the girl from earlier times who would pull Harry into a hug for any reason or none. It wasn't a conscious decision, her body working on autopilot as she threw her arms around him, sobbing heavily into his shoulder.
Harry's own instinct was to return the hug, but he found that he couldn't. Something was stopping him from responding, whether it was as simple as not being able to easily moved due to having a distraught witch pinning him down, or something more fundamental like his psyche refusing to show any emotion to the girl who had caused him so much pain he wasn't sure.
Hermione of course had noticed that Harry hadn't returned the hug, which caused her to sob anew. She could never remember feeling so emotional. Seeing Harry lying there, thin, tired and looking utterly broken was too much for her. Every ounce of feeling that she had spent so long supressing had come flooding back to her.
Hermione was normally very precise in her use of language, a trait which came from her supreme intellect. She rarely got flustered and even on those rare occasions when she was, she was usually able to process her thoughts efficiently enough to leave no room for ambiguity. She could never remember being this emotional before however, and she could not think of a time where her normally highly organised brain was so jumbled. It would have been an idea for her to take a few moments to try and calm herself before she started speaking, but she had so much to say that words just started flooding out.
"Oh my god Harry, look at you. I can't even imagine the hell you have been through, Harry I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry, I've been horrid, I've been horrible to you, I've been horrible to Ron…"
At the mention of Ron's name, Harry stiffened further, again Hermione noticed and sobbed once more. By now, Harry had some control over his own emotions, since his magic was back to almost full strength and feeling different, more controlled, more organised, he was able to keep control of his emotions more easily. His normally expressive face utterly blank, he finally moved his arms, but not to return the renewed hug, but to slowly pry her off him.
Hermione reluctantly let him go and sat in the chair beside the bed. She wanted to reach out for his hand, but for the first time since they had become friends in first year found herself so scared of his reaction to her that she didn't.
She looked into his eyes, desperately seeking something, anything, which would suggest there was even the merest hint of emotion which was aimed in her direction. Harry couldn't maintain the eye contact and looked away before she could see into the depth of his eyes.
Another sob accompanied the movement of his eyes away from hers. Harry hadn't spoken at this point and showed no signs of doing so. Nature abhors a vacuum so Hermione found herself filling the silence with a torrent of words.
"I'm so sorry Harry, for everything. The last year especially, I know I've been horrible to you, I've no excuse, none at all. You didn't deserve it. I can't really explain well why, I guess I was scared, but that's not an excuse, everyone was scared, but no one else pushed you away, I mean when we were on the hunt and it was just the two of us, I hoped that things could get better between us and I think they did, but then…" she paused. Things were better when it was just the two of them.
She wanted to scream in frustration at herself. How could she be so blind. How could she be so stupid. It all made sense now. Sadly, the pause for thought didn't help her organise what she was trying to say, she was still spilling words at a rate of knots.
"For years now when I looked at you I saw something in your eyes, something that looked different, there was something there that I didn't see in anyone else, and it wasn't until I didn't see it in your eyes that I really knew what it was, but by then, it was too late." She was sobbing again, big deep gulps of raw pain seemed to be coursing through her very soul, contributing to her unusually verbose and unstructured rant.
"I'm so sorry Harry, for pushing you away" she repeated. "I'm so sorry that I hurt you I'm so sorry for everything, you have to know Harry, I need to let you know, that I don't love… I don't love…"
CRACK!
The unmistakable sound of apparition along with the sight of the empty bed before her shocked her into momentary silence before she screamed at the top of her voice.
"HARRRYYYYYYY! NOOOOO. YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT I….."
She found herself silenced by an irate Poppy Pomfrey who looked first at the bed and then at the hysterical witch with real anger in her eyes.
"Where is he?" she snapped.
"I… I don't know, I was trying to tell him something and he apparated away. But how? The wards…"
"Hogwarts wards were destroyed during the battle. They are being rebuilt, but in order of priority. The first priorities were the glamours hiding the castle from muggles, and a ward to stop people apparating into the castle. The wards to stop people apparating out from, and within the castle have not been re-established. We didn't want to lose the ability to apparate out to St Mungo's if we needed to, and whilst there is so much work to be done, it makes sense to allow apparition between work areas."
Hermione nodded, still crying freely. "He must hate me. I wanted to tell him…" she paused to cry a little harder "… that I loved him, he just vanished before…"
Poppy stopped her. "Miss Granger, I've spent every night with Harry since the final battle. We have talked for a long time about a lot of things, you and Mr Weasley included. I'm not going to tell Harry's secrets, but I will tell you that you hurt Harry. Maybe you didn't mean to, I certainly hope that's the case, because if you did then you are nowhere near the person I once believed you to be."
"I tried to tell him I never meant to hurt him, that I was sorry and that I didn't love…" She stopped. Realisation dawned. Hermione screamed anew, this time in frustration at her latest mistake. Poppy was concerned for the few other patients so cast a privacy bubble to silence them from the rest of the ward.
"What exactly did you say, Miss Granger. One of the conversations we had involved Harry telling me that one of your strengths was your command of language."
"I know, I wasn't thinking straight when I was trying to tell Harry everything. I was trying to tell him that I didn't love Ron, not the way I love Harry, my emotions got the better of me."
"What did you say. Be as precise as you can remember."
The words were still burned in Hermione's memory. "I said I was sorry for everything than I said 'I need to let you know, that I don't love…' then I paused, I couldn't breathe for a second, the realisation that I was going to tell Harry I loved him was overwhelming, so I said again 'I don't love…' but before I could say Ron, he apparated away."
"I understand why now." Poppy was almost growling in anger. "After the way you have treated him, what do you think Harry thought the next word was going to be? If you are as smart as he continually tells everyone you are, it shouldn't be hard for you to figure out!"
The realisation of what Harry thought she was going to say had already hit her. "You" she said quietly. "He thought I was going to say 'I don't love you'".
"Miss Granger, I'd have thought that of anyone in his life, you would have an understanding of just what that young man has been through. He told me that he's only ever told one person about his childhood, that being you. He told me of the conversations he would have with you when he snuck in here during your second year. He said he felt safe telling you, mostly because you were petrified and wouldn't hear him, but he said that if he was ever going to tell anyone about it properly, it would have been you."
Hermione couldn't help but sob again at the emphasis Poppy put on the past tense part of that statement. The healer wasn't finished though. "Every chat we had somehow managed to wind it's way back to you at some point. Every time he mentioned a challenge he had to overcome, he made it clear he was successful thank to you. He told me about the guilt he still carries from an argument in third year he had with you, he told me that he wanted nothing more than to talk with you, rationally, about the potions book, but you kept just going on at him. He told me how lonely he felt when he thought he had lost you. When I brought you over, I asked one thing. One simple thing."
"I need to find him. I need to explain, properly. Where could he have gone?" The tone of Hermione's voice was pleading. Desperate.
"Miss Granger, I may have known Harry for almost as long as you have, and despite all the conversations we have had, I wouldn't dare claim to know the lad anywhere near as well as you do. Or at least did." Again, the past tense cut Hermione. "If either of us would be able to figure out where he's gone, it would be you. I suggest you put that prodigious mind of yours to the task before I have to go and tell the headmistress that you have managed to make the hero of the wizarding world flee before you!"
Hermione wanted nothing more than to break down again and cry, but she knew that if she didn't get her mind back into focus, there was a very real risk that she could lose Harry forever.
Poppy left her to think. As she sat beside Harry's empty bed, her hand absent mindedly ran over the sheets, feeling the residual warmth of his body still on them. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Where would Harry go. He wouldn't stay in the castle, she didn't think, although it would be an idea to check. He would go somewhere he felt safe, or he would go somewhere that he could think, somewhere he could be alone. She ruled out the Dursley's house straight away, Harry would do anything other than go back there, she didn't think he would go to Grimmauld Place, and knew that he wouldn't go to the Burrow. Part of her heart stabbed in her chest at that thought. The Burrow had been akin to a second home to Harry growing up, it pained her to think that she might be the cause of that familial warmth being lost to him. 'Focus!' she told herself. He wouldn't go to St Mungo's, he wouldn't go to Shell Cottage, there really was only one place she thought he might turn up.
She ran out of the infirmary and headed back to her dorm to pick up a jacket. She considered a cloak but worried that she might have to go somewhere muggle, decided against it. She also ran to the boys dorm and picked up a jacket for Harry. He had apparated away wearing nothing but his t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans. Wherever he was, there was a chance he would be cold.
Her first instinct was to run to the main gate to get outside Hogwarts wards, until she remembered that she could apparate out. She took another deep breath and carefully schooled her thoughts. Apparation was risky, she didn't want her mind to wander and splinch herself. As she was trying to calm herself she found her mind working on a plan. It was the best way for her to get her mind back in control.
The plan was in place. She was sure he had left the castle, pretty sure he wasn't at Grimmauld Place, but she would check there first. Focusing on the 'three Ds' of apparition, she turned on her hell and disappeared with the tell-tale crack. A similar sound saw her reappear in a dark corner of a London square, with a row of seemingly dilapidated buildings on the other side.
She briskly walked toward them, all the time pushing her mind toward the number 12. As she approached the buildings, it appeared as if numbers 11 and 13 were pushed aside as the magically hidden building revealed itself to her. She sighed with relief, she wasn't sure if it would. After Sirius' death, Harry had made her the secret keeper and given her unfettered access to the wards, which meant she could make the building reappear and could enter at will. The first part was done, now it was time to see if Harry had still enough residual trust in her to keep giving her access.
She approached the door and after a brief pause, stuck her hand out and grasped the handle. That she wasn't magically thrown back into the street was a good sign, so she turned the handle and opened the door. The old building hadn't changed much since the last time she had visited, that desperate summer when the house was used as the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix.
Someone had clearly been here, the hated portrait of Sirius' mother was covered by a heavy cloth, Hermione could almost feel the magic imbued in it which was being used to keep the hated woman quiet. The house however, had an empty quality. She listened carefully, there were no signs of life, no sounds.
"Kreacher" she called out. The ancient and wizened house elf appeared with a pop.
"What does the… what does she want?" he grumbled at her. Harry had obviously instructed him at some point not to call her any names.
"Has Harry been here today?"
"No, Master Harry has not been here for a long time. Kreacher has been left alone."
"Oh, I'm sorry Kreacher. Can I do anything? Can I get anyone for you?" As she spoke she realised how stupid her words were. Stupid or not, the elf looked at her and she could have sworn, raised an eyebrow.
"No. Kreacher is happy."
"Kreacher, can you feel Harry through your bond?"
"Yes."
"Do you know where he is?"
"No. Kreacher can't feel where he is. If Master was to call, Kreacher's magic would find Master's, but until then, Kreacher only knows that Master is alive. And sad."
Hermione gasped at that. "You can sense his feelings?"
"When they are strong. Master is very strong. Master is stronger than he has ever been. Master has been sad for a long time."
"Thank you Kreacher. I'm going to find Harry, I'll hopefully be able to ask him to come and see you."
Before the old elf was able to respond, she turned and ran back out of the house. As she walked back to the apparition point, she had to form a plan. If she apparated to close to where she suspected he was, he would hear the crack and his fight-or-flight response would kick in. She knew he wouldn't fight her, so he would flee. She couldn't have that. She needed to get to him so she could talk. So she could make him understand.
She realised her emotional state had contributed to the mess she found herself in, so was working on what she was going to say until she had to focus on the task in hand. With a determined look on her face, she disappeared with a crack.
- OoOoOo -
Hermione appeared exactly where she planned. The village square in Godric's Hollow. If she took the furthest right path from the square, she knew she would eventually find the cottage where James and Lily Potter died all those years ago. She was sorely tempted to do so, but she was here for another reason. Turning round, she walked off in the opposite direction, toward the graveyard which was Harry's parent's final resting place. Moving quickly but silently, thanks to a charm on her shoes, she made her way to the sprawling and overgrown cemetery.
She paused at the kissing gate which formed the entrance, her hand idly stroking the gatepost. She thought about the last time she had been here, just her and Harry. Ron had abandoned them, it was Christmas Eve and Harry had suggested coming here. She agreed and the two of them had made the same trip she was making now. She remembered the night clearly. They found the statue of James, Lily and baby Harry and then eventually found the graves they were looking for.
Hermione had never felt closer to Harry than she did that night. For one glorious moment, it was like the previous two years had been washed away, as she held a grieving Harry in her arms. She had wanted so much to hold him closer, to kiss away his pain, to let him know that although he had lost the love of his parents, she loved him just as much.
But she didn't.
She kept her thoughts to herself, cowardly, she now thought. She let the rational side of her brain win, as she always did. The timing was wrong, she argued. The emotions were driven by where they were, the fact it was Christmas, the grief.
She realised she was stalling. She realised too, that she was scared. What if Harry disappeared again as soon as she saw him. She wished she had learned how to cast an anti-apparition ward, but as it was, all she had was hope and a reason to proceed.
She forced one foot forward, making the other follow the motion. She found herself silently walking a circuitous route to the grave of Harry's parents. She wanted to try and hide herself until she was close enough to hopefully get to talk to him. She was terrified that if he saw her early, he would run.
Eventually, she knew that the next corner would see her face to face with the grave. She almost stopped but with a final spurt of adrenaline, rounded the corner.
There was no one there.
She almost screamed with frustration, if it wasn't for the fact she was in a graveyard she would have. She had been certain, CERTAIN that he would have gone to his parent's grave. She found herself crying in disappointment as she approached the gravestones.
As she looked down, she saw a single flower on his mother's grave. It looked fresh.
A single lily.
She reached down to pick up the flower, as soon as she touched it she felt it. A jolt of energy which coursed through her body. It was a sensation so familiar to her that she didn't even know it was always there until the day she couldn't feel it any more.
It was Harry. It was the aura which Hermione had felt wrap around her like a comforter for all those years. It was the reason she felt incomplete since it had left her. The sensation was enough to make her smile for the first time in days. The sensation filled her with hope that somehow, Harry hadn't grown to hate her. She couldn't reconcile the feeling that was flooding her body was anything other than absolutely positive.
She was loathe to put the flower back down, scared that if she let it go, the warm sensation of Harry, of his very essence of all that was good about him would leave her again. This feeling was one she never wanted to lose again.
Losing it once was horrific. To lose it twice would be unimaginable. Still, it was proof that her thought process was back on track. Harry had been here. He had conjured the flower to leave on his mother's grave, and for that reason alone, she knew she could never remove it from here. She could never desecrate Lily's memory, nor Harry's inherent love for the mother who made the ultimate sacrifice for him.
She slowly placed the flower back where it was, and with a feeling of regret and trepidation, let go. Part of her was expecting the same coldness she had felt when she realised that she couldn't sense Harry's aura any more to return. When it didn't it took all of her self control not to whoop in delight.
Instead she knelt before the graves and bowed her head.
"Mr and Mrs Potter, I don't know if you remember me, or if you can even hear me, but I'm Hermione, and I've been so horrible to Harry that I can't stand myself. I've pushed him away when he didn't' deserve it, I've swallowed my love for him because I was scared. I've hurt him terribly. I didn't mean to, but that doesn't matter, I did and I hate it."
The tears fell once again, warm wet circles appearing on the grave of Lily Potter. "Mrs Potter, I'm here ashamed at how I acted. Seeing your grave, knowing that you died to protect him and I pushed him away. I don't deserve him, I know that, but I love him. I love your son."
Hermione's tears increased, but she was determined that this time, she was going to stay in control. "If I could talk to you, to either of you, I would beg your forgiveness. I would tell you how sorry I was and I would promise you that I would do anything to make Harry happy." She paused to consider her words once again. "Even if that meant leaving him."
She felt, rather than saw the other presence. She wasn't scared though. She stood and looked around and in a clearing, not too far away she saw them. The stag and the doe. They both stood there, looking in her direction, side by side, their flanks touching. As she looked at them, she saw the two majestic beasts turn to look at each other and them back to her. The doe nodded her head, before the two animals turned and walked away.
Hermione's legs gave out from under her as she sank once again to the floor, her teams this time ones of relief and joy. Even from the distance she was, she could sense the love radiating from the two manifestations of the souls of James and Lily Potter. She understood why it was Lily who had to give her assent. If she could forgive Hermione then maybe, just maybe, Harry could too.
As she tried to gather her strength once again, she put her mind to the remaining conundrum. Where was Harry. He had come here first, but where would he go next. As she thought, her mind wandered back in time. There were two events, during their oh so brief period of togetherness during the hunt where they had felt closer than ever. The night Godric's Hollow and the night where Harry had helped her forget, sadly too briefly, that they were in mortal danger, and had laughed with her, spoken to her like they used to, and danced with her.
She knew where he would be. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Sadly, there was no hiding place this time, she would just have to apparate to where she knew he would be and hope for the best.
Hope. It was the one thing she lacked when she approached the graves, but now, it was the one thing which kept her going.
She closed her eyes and pictured the scene in her head. In her mind's eye she clearly saw the surroundings, she saw the landmarks, she saw everything so vividly, it was like magic itself was telling her where to go.
Crack. Then the graveyard was empty once again.
- OoOoOo -
He was sitting down on a familiar chair when he heard the noise. The unmistakable sound of apparition. The place was warded against inward and outward apparition from inside, so if he wanted to escape, he would have to go outside.
He drew his wand, not truly believing that he would need it, but with an overabundance of caution borne from harsh experience. He slowly approached the door and softly teased it open.
She was standing on the other side. He had somehow known it would be her. She was blocking the way, so if he was to escape he would have to push her away. He knew that he couldn't do that.
He expected another rambling emotional plea for forgiveness. A small ugly part in the deepest recesses of his psyche wanted to hear it, but he smothered that thought as soon as it started to form. It was a thought unbecoming of him and regardless of the pain she had caused, a thought he knew he would never fully form as far as she was concerned. What he heard however made him take an involuntary step backward.
"I love you."
His eyes widened, his mouth agape.
"That's what I was trying to say. I went about it all wrong, but I was trying to tell you that I love you. I don't love Ron. I should have led with the loving you part, not the not loving Ron part. I wasn't thinking straight."
Harry took another step back, but this time, to let her in. With a shy smile she accepted the unspoken invitation, happy that if nothing else, Harry was going to hear her out.
They sat down. Harry was still to say a word, so Hermione, once again, took the lead. This time, she was Hermione. Structured, focussed.
"When you looked at me after the events of the Room" she certainly wasn't going to make things more awkward by mentioning the kiss "I saw your eyes. The light had gone out of them. That's when I knew just now wrong I had been. I'd spent years looking into your eyes and seeing it there, I just didn't fully understand what it was, or maybe I did and refused to believe it."
She looked into his eyes again. This time, he didn't look away. Another small smile formed on Hermione's lips. "It took me looking into your eyes and seeing what wasn't there to realise. I have said this a lot, but I am sorry, Harry. You kept calling me the brightest witch of our age, but I couldn't even see what was right before my eyes. Or worse, I had all of the parts of the puzzle, but I couldn't put them together."
She looked around the inside of the tent that she had spent nine terrifying months in. "After you died, I didn't think I was going to be able to continue. I stayed in the castle as everyone else started to drift away. I stayed because you were there. Not seeing you was killing me." She saw a haunted look of guilt flash across his face. "No, Harry, you have nothing to be guilty about, you were absolutely justified in keeping me away. I hurt you. I will never forget that, I will never forgive myself for it either. I will never forgive myself for being a coward."
He spoke for the first time. "If there is one thing you are not, it's a coward. No one else could have done what you have."
"I was a coward when it came to my feelings. Rather than see what was there, I focussed on what wasn't. No obvious displays which showed me that you thought of me as anything other than a friend. No suggestions that you had even considered me romantically. So I pushed my feelings for you away, and in doing so, I pushed you away."
"That was my fault, not yours."
"No. I remembered what you said when you thought I couldn't hear you back in second year. You had never been shown love, Harry, so how were you expected to show it to anyone else."
"You can't blame yourself for my failures, Hermione. If anyone should be apologising, its me."
"Again, no. I saw your love, Harry, but I didn't realise I had seen it until it was too late. The night of the yule ball. I looked into your eyes when you first saw me, and I saw two things. Sadness, which I now like to think is because you realised you should have asked me like I wanted you to, and love. I've always been able to see into the depths of your eyes. And that night, for the first time, I saw love. I didn't realise what it was until it wasn't there any more."
For the first time, Harry looked away. "I don't know what to say."
Hermione's heart dropped. Harry picked up on the immediate change in her. He looked back with a raised eyebrow. "I didn't realise I could do that until I couldn't."
"Do what?"
"Sense you. I always seemed to know when you were down, or happy, or needed a hug. Then when we drifted apart, that feeling became less and less until, it was gone. I missed it."
"That makes both of us. The flower made me feel you again. It gave me a sliver of hope that, if nothing else, you might some day find it in your heart to forgive me."
"You don't need my forgiveness Hermione, my failures were the cause of this."
"They weren't. I should have put the pieces together before causing you to go off and let yourself be…" She couldn't finish the sentence, the mere thought of Harry's unmoving body caused her to start crying.
This time, it was Harry who acted on instinct. He moved over to Hermione, who was still looking at the floor, trying to stifle her tears. He reached out and took her into his arms. The last of Hermione's resolve broke and she grabbed him desperately, crying freely.
She wasn't the only one. Harry was sobbing into her shoulder. Relief that he hadn't lost her, relief that she was back with him, and the sensation that he had missed for so long. A sensation so strong that he physically felt it.
Love.
"I love you too" he whispered into her ear.
The two simply held each other until the sobbing stopped. They broke the embrace and looked at each other. They then did the last thing they would have thought a moment ago. Both laughed.
"Look at us, we are quite a pair" said Harry, tucking a strand of stray hair behind Hermione's ear.
"I need you to do something please Harry."
"What."
"Forgive me."
"Only if you forgive me. I mean it, I've been every bit as whatever, stupid, blind, obstinate, I can't use my childhood as an excuse, Hermione. Or at least, I don't want to. If I do, then they win."
She nodded. "I forgive you."
"I forgave you when I was at the grave. I knew that whatever had come between us was as much my fault as yours, but it took thinking about my parents to realise it."
Their tears drying, eyes still red, the two looked at each other anew. Their faces slowly, inexorably moving toward each other before the gap was almost gone.
One final movement and the gap was gone. His lips met hers for the first time. It was nothing like the desperate kiss Hermione had shared with Ron. It was tentative, tender, it was soft, it was heaven.
His hand rose to the back of her head, hers mirrored the movement as the kiss deepened. This, they both thought, was perfection.
A/N. There you have it. I'm the first to admit, I ran out of steam at the end, I just wanted some closure with this. Not my best work, I will be honest and say, but I hope that now it's out of my head, something better will take its place!