[A/N: Thank you to Calamity Owl for beta-reading this chapter!]
Harry found himself alone by mid-morning the next day. Dobby had taken Hermione home around six when a healer came by to check on him, and Sirius and Remus left after he was formally discharged a few hours later. Harry had just finished going over the hospital room one last time to make sure nobody had left anything when a knock on the door nearly made him jump.
"Guid morning, Mister Potter," Professor McGonagall said. "How are ye feeling?"
"I'm fine," Harry said. "They just kept me for observation."
"Ye nearly died," McGonagall said sadly. "That's nae 'fine.'"
Harry shot her a wry smile. "I'm surprised you're not used to that by now."
"I am, and that's the problem." She shook her head. "I've seen you in too many hospital beds, laddie."
"In my defence, I was almost always in the same one at Hogwarts," Harry said.
McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose. "Ah, yes, your plaque. The fact that the Twins and, as I later learned, Peeves, were moved tae put a plaque for ye on a bed proves my point."
"Oh, so you finally figured out Peeves was involved?" Harry asked. "He was their secret weapon in making sure it couldn't be removed."
"Yes, they admitted it tae me after ye graduated," she said. "Now stop trying tae change the subject, Mr. Potter! Ye end up in these beds far too often for my likin'."
He shrugged. "I'm sorry, Prof…Headmistress. As much as I try to stay safe, this is a dangerous line of work."
"I know, and I worry about ye constantly." The older woman sighed. "Lad, your parents were some of my favourite students, and they're ne'er goin' tae forgive me if ye meet them again before I do."
That comment brought Harry up short. McGonagall had been a constant for over half of his life thus far and he had trouble imagining a day when he'd walk into Hogwarts without her there.
Was that how other people his age felt about their parents?
He mentally shook himself and responded. "I'll do my best to avoid that happening, but my father was an Auror. He knew the risks, too."
"Your father was only an Auror because of the war," she said. "He'd finally married the girl he'd been chasing tae ludicrously little effect for nearly ten years and I suspect if he'd had his way they'd ne'er hae even left the bedroom, tae say nothing of hunting Dark Wizards."
Harry hurriedly shoved any thoughts related to his parents doing that into the furthest part of his mind and tried to stay focused on the real topic. "But Professor Dumbledore told me he'd always wanted to be an Auror."
Such fury washed over McGonagall's features that Harry nearly took a step back, but it disappeared as quickly as it came and she calmly responded, "Only tae protect your mother from the war. He once told me he'd rather fight for her rights in the Wizengamot than the streets, but he ne'er shied away frae doin' either."
"Oh." Harry looked down. "I didn't know that. Even so, though, I'm not sure the Aurors would have caught Marcus and Millie anytime soon without my help and Hermione's. We probably saved a lot of lives."
"Of course ye did," McGonagall said. "Remus told me how ye both were magnificent. There are lots of ways tae save lives, though. Those two might ne'er hae turned Dark at all had Severus not been allowed tae run their house all those years."
Harry stood still for a moment, shocked to hear her voice the concerns he and his friends had raised so often in private. Before he could speak again, McGonagall walked up to him and put her hands on his shoulders. "Ye're so much more than just a wand, lad. Ne'er forget that."
"I won't." It might have been his imagination, but the whole world seemed to shift just a bit as he spoke.
Harry stumbled out of his floo about half an hour later and took a brown-haired missile to the chest before he even had a chance to dust the soot off.
"Welcome home, Harry!" Hermione said, her voice muffled by his shirt.
He wrapped his arms around her and held her for a moment before speaking. "That's when I realised I had strong feelings for you, you know," he said.
"Wait, what?" she asked.
"That first time I came back to the house and you welcomed me home," Harry said. "No one had ever welcomed me back to my own home before, and for the first time it really felt like one. A home, I mean. Ginny was never really here when I wasn't, so I always came home alone and it never really mattered when I got home. That was the first time I'd ever returned home and had anyone care whether I was late."
"I'm sorry," Hermione said. "I don't mean to cramp your style."
"Don't be," Harry replied firmly. "Remember that old Janis Joplin song where she sings, 'Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose'? That's what I'm trying to say. I like knowing you care whether I'm late because the alternative is nobody caring."
"I've never really thought about it like that," Hermione said. She hugged him even tighter. "I…I don't think it even occurred to me that anyone would ever care about me like that. Even before I left home, my parents were pretty hands-off and didn't really keep track of my comings and goings."
"Well, we've got each other now." Harry paused. "You know, I thought this sort of thing would be scarier."
"How so?" Hermione still hadn't released him from her hug, and he was fine with that.
"Making a home with a woman, losing my heart to her, those seemed like big steps. But I woke up this morning knowing my heart was beating in here," he tapped the left side of her back, "and not in my own chest, and it just seemed totally natural. Like, I can't imagine it any other way now."
Hermione was silent for a moment, then sniffled once, and again.
"Are you OK?" Harry asked.
"Oh, Harry," she said, "you can't say something like that and expect me not to cry."
He smiled and moved her back a little so he could look her in the eyes. "You know, I think we were about to do something in the hospital when we were interrup–" was as far as he got before she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him.
It wasn't the fireworks of his first kiss with Ginny, where it felt like every nerve in his body was on fire with desire for her. He was nearly ten years older now, and his hormones didn't burn quite as hot as they did when he was a teenager. This felt more like coming up for air for the first time after a lifetime underwater, and he never wanted it to stop.
Like all good things, though, it did eventually come to an end, and Hermione collapsed back against his chest, panting for lack of breath. "Oh," she said, "that's what it's supposed to feel like."
"You've never…um…snogged before?" Harry asked.
"Only a couple of times in bars at uni during history of philosophy get-togethers," she said, still somewhat breathless. "I didn't let it go any further because I didn't feel anything. I…um…do now."
"I've only kissed Ginny…well, and one time with Cho after Cedric dumped her, but the less said about that the better. If this is how you kiss with no real practice, then you're a natural."
She blushed. "I'm glad you think so. Is it alright if we go slow from here, though? I've never really been in a relationship before."
"Of course," Harry said. "Wait, how have you never been in a relationship before? You're gorgeous and a genius!"
"Most people were too put off by the latter to notice the former," Hermione said drily. "I think you're the only person who ever commented."
"This isn't helping my opinion of your classmates, you know," Harry said.
She blushed harder. "Um…I have the same question, if you don't mind. Only two girls? With your looks and skills, you must have had your…pick…Harry, did I say something wrong?"
"No, no, it's fine," Harry said, shaking his head to dispel the dark look that must have come over his face. "I did have my pick of girls, especially once Sirius took me in and I started wearing clothes that actually fit. It's just…I felt like none of them really knew me, or would have wanted me if they had known me. I tried dating a couple of people after Ginny left me, but they always turned out to just want to use me. "
"I'm sorry," Hermione said. "You deserved better."
"And I have it," Harry replied. He held her there for a few more minutes, just basking in her presence, until one of their stomachs rumbled. (They were so close that they couldn't quite tell whose.) "Ah. Should we get some tea and sandwiches?"
Hermione nodded.
"OK. After we've eaten, let's organise a better plan for chores and meals. Now that we've admitted we're together, I think we can be more up front about our intentions."
"I agree," Hermione said, but something in her voice gave him pause.
"What is it?" he asked.
"We can still do spontaneous stuff, too, right?" she asked. "I didn't know how much I enjoyed letting someone I trusted take over the planning until my birthday, and I've come to quite enjoy it."
Harry laughed. "Hermione, this is me we're talking about. We'll keep doing spontaneous things whether we want to or not."
"Oh, OK," she said, and fell silent.
"Um…are you planning out what to keep with you at all times now?" Harry asked.
She didn't respond immediately. Finally, in a small voice, she asked, "You don't mind, do you?"
"After yesterday?" Harry asked. "Not at all."
Harry had the rest of the day off for both medical leave and enforced administrative leave while his killing in the line of duty was investigated. Having no other engagements, Harry was happy to help Hermione work on her Charms, though he kept his own casting to a minimum because of his exhaustion. They didn't part until after bedtime had come and gone, and Hermione sensed some reluctance on Harry's part to let her go to bed alone. He was a gentleman about the matter and didn't press, though, and midnight saw them both asleep in their own beds.
However, one o'clock saw Hermione rocketing out of her bed and up the stairs. Harry's screams had ripped her from a sound sleep, and he was still in the grip of a nightmare when she arrived. He happened to be sleeping mostly on the right side of the bed, probably a leftover from the days when he had company there, so she slipped around to the left side of his bed to avoid his thrashing arms.
"It's OK," she said as she climbed into the bed and pulled his head to her breast. "It's OK." She ended up in an awkward half-sitting position with a pillow under the small of her back and her upper back supported by the padded headboard.
Some small part of her brain wondered if this sort of situation was why she'd seen so many padded headboards, but that didn't seem likely. She filed that thought away for future investigation and focused on the task at hand, which was comforting Harry. She felt immensely more awkward doing so when she realised she was only wearing her knickers and a thin sleep cami.
Harry was still mostly asleep, though, and didn't seem to realise that his girlfriend had crawled into his bed wearing next to nothing. Instead, he just wrapped his arms around her body, mumbled something about "he was making me hurt her," and drifted back off to sleep.
Hermione considered that a success, but re-evaluated the grading when she realised she was now thoroughly trapped in his bed. With no other options, she ran her fingers through the mop of messy black hair on her chest and sighed. "I guess I was bound to wind up here eventually," she whispered to the night. She wasn't quite ready to face that truth in the light of day yet, or even twilight, but telling the night seemed safe.
The light of day streaming in through the glass French doors out onto Harry's terrace eventually awoke Hermione, who gave a confused "eep" when she realised where she was, who was on top of her, and what she wasn't wearing.
Harry stirred at the sound and snuggled even more onto her breasts. She could pinpoint the precise moment he opened his eyes when every muscle in his body stiffened up, including that one.
"Oh…um…" Harry carefully wiggled his pelvic region away from her as he spoke. "Hi."
"You had a nightmare," Hermione said to the top of his head. "I tried to soothe you and you didn't let me go afterward."
"Oh! I remember now." Harry's arms tightened around her as he spoke. "I think Susan's screams from the Cruciatus Curse reminded me of when that wendigo made me curse her. I was having a horrible dream that Marcus imperioused me and made me torture her again in retaliation for killing Millie. Thank you for waking me up. It just kept getting worse."
She ran her fingers through his hair again. Such a simple gesture should not have been that satisfying, and he seemed to enjoy it, too. "It was no trouble, really,"
"I do appreciate it," Harry said. "By the time I awake from those on my own, I'm usually terrified and jittery. I slept great for the rest of the night, though."
"I'm glad," she said. Her back was sore from the weird sleeping position, but she couldn't deny that she'd slept shockingly well even so. "I should probably go put some clothes back on, though."
"Oh, right." Harry sat up and politely averted his eyes. "Go ahead. I won't peek."
Hermione ignored the "even though I desperately want to" hanging in the air and hurried out of the room.
The awkwardness between them didn't abate for the remainder of the morning, but fortunately Hermione's prescheduled lunch date with Sue gave her an excellent excuse to quit the house for awhile. She even managed to use the floo on her own, though she did end up falling on her arse when she arrived at Bones Manor. Only an old house elf saw her, though, and it didn't do anything besides give her a look of disapproval.
Sue had originally intended to accompany her to lunch in muggle London, but she still wasn't fully recovered from her torture, so they'd agreed to eat at Bones Manor, instead. The poor woman was still using a cane when she arrived in the floo room while Hermione was dusting herself off.
"Sorry I'm late," she said. "I thought I could get around without this thing today, but I had to go back for it."
"No worries," Hermione said. "I'm just sorry you're still feeling poorly."
Sue waved off Hermione's concern. "I'll be fine, don't worry. Besides, I've already got Auntie and Nev worrying about me constantly, so I feel covered on the 'worry' front."
Hermione's mind flashed back to her conversation with Harry on the Underground train. Worry was probably a lot easier to decline when you had enough of it.
"I'm glad you have them taking care of you," Hermione said.
"And I'm glad Harry has you taking care of him," Sue responded. "Someone needs to, and there's a full moon coming up so Sirius and Remus will be of limited help. Nev would probably be running back and forth between our houses all day without you."
Hermione had a hunch that Neville's attention would be much more on the buxom woman in front of her, but she didn't feel like she knew them well enough to comment on that just yet, so she just made a noncommittal noise that sounded reasonably assenting.
"How's Harry doing, by the way?" Sue asked. "He seemed fine when I floo-called yesterday afternoon."
"He's pretty much back to normal," Hermione said. "The exhaustion was only temporary. I think the incident hit him mentally harder than it did physically. He couldn't stand seeing you hurt like that."
"I understand," Sue said. "He's never really forgiven himself for the wendigo incident and how he tortured me. Did he have more nightmares?"
Hermione nodded. She hadn't planned to mention those, but Sue seemed to know about them. "Yes, but I ran upstairs and calmed him down."
"Thank you," Sue said. "He's always had bad nightmares. Nev used to keep an eye on him in the dormitory, and we were both worried about what would happen to him once he broke up with Ginny. Wait, though…why'd you have to run up the stairs?"
"We're…um…not sleeping together yet," Hermione said.
"You're not?" Sue's eyebrows shot up again. "I am actually more surprised to hear that than I would have been if you'd shown up here with a betrothal ring on your finger. Is Harry alright? I can round up Nev, Sirius, and Remus if you think he needs to be convinced to sit for either a physical or mental evaluation."
Hermione blinked. "Um…what?"
"Harry had a hard time getting used to accepting physical affection," Sue said. "Back when Ginny and I still talked, she used to worry about him a lot. She made a lot of progress getting him used to intimacy, though I think she screwed him up in a different way in the end and I'm concerned he's backsliding now."
"'Getting used to physical affection'?" Hermione asked. "I keep hearing things that make me very worried about his upbringing. Is there something–"
Sue shook her head. "That's not my story to tell, and, frankly, I probably shouldn't know as much as Ginny told me. Let's just say that he had a difficult childhood and I'm concerned he may have retreated into some of his old habits after Ginny left him."
Hermione seriously considered lying or refusing to answer. This woman clearly cared a great deal for Harry, though, and Hermione didn't want to do anything that might prevent Harry from getting help if he needed it. "No," she whispered. "It's my fault."
"Your fault?" Sue asked. "Hermione, what you do with your body is your own business, not your fault. I just assumed it was Harry because that poor boy is such a ball of issues that I'm sometimes surprised he can get out of bed in the morning."
Hermione sighed. "No, this is entirely on my issues, not his. Look at me!" She gestured up and down her body as she spoke. "I'm incredibly plain, and on top of that I know nothing about how to approach physical intimacy! Now, for some reason I cannot fathom this incredible man has taken an interest in me and I'm terrified he'll realise I'm a frigid, boring swot who's about as sexually exciting as one of the books she spends all of her time with. Are you happy now? The only thing wrong with Harry is that he seems to be sexually attracted to me, and I'm sure that condition will improve with time."
Sue limped over to Hermione and wrapped her in a tight hug. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to bring up something you're so uncomfortable with."
Hermione didn't return the hug. "I don't like talking about it, but it sounded like you might need that information to diagnose a potential issue with Harry. I don't need your pity."
"You're right." Sue released her and took a step back so she could look the smaller woman in the eyes. "You don't. You need an explanation. Come on." She turned around and made her way toward the nearby sitting room, her unsteady steps and thudding cane echoing through the house in a halting anapest. Her hair was down in a long braid that swung wildly with each stomp, which looked good enough on her to make Hermione self-conscious of her own bushy mess while simultaneously reminding her why the other woman wore it up to work.
Hermione followed her and sat down across from her on a pair of armchairs that looked like they should be archaic and uncomfortable, but turned out to be the most comfortable thing on which she'd ever sat.
"Professionally applied Cushioning Charm made permanent with runework," Sue said when she noticed Hermione prodding at the almost nonexistent cushion. "Anyway, you and I need to have a talk about Harry. I understand you have concerns about yourself, but what I—and he—need you to know is that he has many of those same concerns about himself."
"What?" Hermione asked. "But he–"
"Had a very bad childhood," Sue said. "And things didn't get better for several years at Hogwarts. Part of that is my fault, to be honest, since I was one of the great many people who thought he might have been responsible for what turned out to have been the basilisk attacks. And all because we found out he was a Parselmouth!" She shook her head. "I've never really forgiven myself for that, and I doubt he ever fully did, either."
"What do the basilisk attacks have to do with his self-image?" Hermione asked.
"It was the first time others had found out a secret about him," Sue explained, "and we all distrusted him as a result. Between the lack of affection, to put it mildly, in his upbringing and that incident, Nev and I think what he learnt is that no one will ever love him once they get to really know him."
Sue paused for a moment and took a breath before continuing. "And I did that to him! I helped take a broken little boy and turn him into a lonely, mistrusting man! Hell of a friend I am, right?"
"It sounds like you were only a tiny part of that," Hermione said. "That's why we don't give twelve-year-olds much power or responsibility: they do stupid, thoughtless things sometimes. Because they're twelve."
"While Harry was twelve, he was saving a girl's life and killing a giant basilisk," Sue said. "What's my excuse?"
"Wait, people keep saying it was a large basilisk," Hermione said. "What does that mean? I looked them up and normal ones are supposed to be about a foot long, so are we talking three feet? Five feet?"
"Basilisks grow continuously until they die," Sue said. "This one was one thousand years old."
"How…big?" Hermione croaked out.
"Sixty feet."
"Good God." Hermione leaned back in her chair. "How are you all not dead?"
"Harry," Sue replied. "It all comes back to Harry. I eventually stopped treating him like garbage, but most of our schoolmates never did. Even the professors didn't believe him when he told them he didn't enter his name in the Triwizard Tournament."
"The professors didn't believe him?" Hermione asked. Even after some of her sub-optimal experiences with professors, she still couldn't believe them capable of such dereliction.
"I'm afraid so," Sue said. "Nev and I did, but it's not like we could help much. I mean, we were fourteen. I knew a few neat duelling tricks Auntie taught me and Nev was able to help a bit with preparation for the Second Task, but that was it. Morganna knows who would have been able to keep the poor boy alive if Sirius hadn't been free by then and arranged training from that psycho Hit Wizard."
"Everything I learn about his life just makes it worse," Hermione said.
"So did I," Sue said darkly.
"But you tried to make it better!" Hermione said. "That matters. Even if you can't be entirely forgiven, you can still repent."
"That's a lovely lie," Sue replied.
"The greatest philosophers of the last two thousand years thought it was true," Hermione fired back. "Live like it is and maybe it could be."
Sue sighed. "Maybe you're right. What does that even mean, though?"
"It means keep being a good friend to him," Hermione said.
"I'm doing my best," she said. "I get the impression you need friends, too, though."
Hermione blushed. "Did Harry tell you that?"
"He told me he was concerned about how easy it was for you to let your old life go," Sue said. "He's also…Harry's not great at staying safe, which you've probably figured out by now. I think he's trying to ensure you have some friends in our world in case anything happens to him."
Hermione felt herself shrinking instinctively back into the chair. "I don't think I could do this without him."
"You can," Sue said, "and I think you know it."
"Every time I stop to think about this plan, it seems insane," Hermione. "He makes me believe it's not."
"He's got a knack for that," Sue said. "Nev and I will try to help, too, though. And I wish Luna were here. She would know exactly what to say to confuse the hell out of you now and make you feel better tomorrow."
"Wait, what?" Hermione asked.
"Luna cannot be explained." Sue spoke as if imparting a fundamental truth of the universe. "She can only be experienced."
"She sounds…interesting," Hermione said. "So is she like some sort of Taoist master? The Tao that can be spoken is not the Eternal Tao; the name that can be named is not the Eternal Name…stuff like that?"
Sue blinked. "Oh, Morgana. You two are either going to kill each other or get along splendidly, and I'm not sure which worries me more."
"Did Harry say she was off on a honeymoon/research trip?" Hermione asked.
"Yes. After she and Rolf Scamander got married, she basically dragged him off into the bushes to have her wicked way with him until he could no longer stand—her words, not mine—and search for new magical animals while he recuperated." Sue smirked. "Ron and Ginny laughed at that, but I remember Rolf nervously double-checking what I think was a pouch of stamina potion vials on his belt."
"Oh, my," Hermione said.
"Precisely," Sue said. "Here's the trick to understanding Luna: she says outrageous things all the time, but she believes every word and she is a sufficiently powerful witch to bend more of reality to her will than you'd think."
"She's on our side, right?" Hermione asked.
"Absolutely," Sue said. "She's another person who never, ever stopped believing in Harry." She took a deep breath. "I know you're scared, and I can't tell you not to be. I know he's scared, too, though, and I think you can get through it together."
"He deserves so much better than me, though," Hermione said.
"Stop that right now," Sue demanded, and Hermione immediately froze at her tone. "Listen to me, Hermione. You don't get to decide what he deserves. All I know is that one of my best friends has been desperately lonely for over a year and has finally found someone worthy of filling that hole in his heart, and I will not let you undermine that by telling yourself it's doomed to fail. He wants it to succeed. What do you want?"
"I want it to succeed," Hermione whispered.
"Good. Then make it succeed. If you don't think you're the witch he deserves yet, then become that witch. I'm not going to let you run away from this."
"I…I hadn't thought of it like that," Hermione said. "I'll do it. Um…can you help, though? I can try to make myself smarter or a better witch, but I don't know much about making myself beautiful."
Sue smirked. "You're doing just fine so far, in my opinion and I suspect Harry's, as well, but I'd be happy to give you some pointers about how to be more enticing both when you're vertical and horizontal."
"That would be nice," Hermione said, blushing.
