February 17th, 2006
An old Wizarding Village
"That's the house." Hermione points out in the dark, Harry uses a spell to see better.
"Was it mandatory that these Aurors lived in trash houses?" He asks, kind of joking, kind of speaking seriously.
Tonight they'll pay a visit to Crouch Jr.
Harry can't help wondering if Hermione ever went back to Lestrange's or Goyle's. It feels like if she had, she would have confronted him, which she didn't, so…
He dismisses the thought, focusing on what they need to do now. He hopes they can get answers from Crouch. Maybe he still has the memory from that night… but Harry is starting to doubt any of them will actually remember anything.
Maybe the only one who knows everything is Riddle himself.
"Let's go." Hermione says by his side.
They walk out of the shadows, both already disguised, wearing black clothes and covering their faces with hoods. The street is quiet and deserted. It's pretty late and Harry is anxious to enter the house.
He can tell that the deeper his relationship with Hermione gets, more anxious he feels. Because he'll need to reveal everything to her at some point and he's insanely afraid of losing her. Afraid of shattering this love between them.
And visiting the Aurors is something personal to him, hence his nervousness.
They stop close to the house, behind a fence. Harry raises a hand to check if there are any wards protecting the place, but Hermione puts one of her hands on his cheek. He blinks, turning to her. "Stop that, you'll hurt yourself." She says in a low voice, referring to him chewing the insides of his cheeks. He hadn't even noticed he was doing it. Harry gulps and nods.
And she uses a spell to breach into the wards. There's only silence and darkness around them on this moonless night. No lights lit inside the house. No sign of movement. Harry wonders if Crouch Jr. is at home.
Silently they move together to a window. There's no back door, which is strange. But the curtain is open and both peek inside the house. Is just as dark as the night. Hermione makes a face. Using a few hand signals, they decide to manually open the window and enter through there.
Harry moves and forces the window open. Differently from what he expected, it isn't locked. Hermione uses a spell to muffle the creaking sound of it as it slides up. They look around and wait a few seconds. There's no movement, not inside nor outside.
Nodding to each other, Harry enters the house first, Hermione second. He raises a powerful shield around them when they're both inside, the window closing behind them. Not talking, they walk side by side, their wands ready.
Harry can tell that Crouch Jr. is, in a way, prepared for an invasion. An Auror that took his learnings to his life, not like Lestrange or Goyle who were insanely unprepared. Harry has no idea how Karkaroff secured his house when Sirius and the others found him, but this time, this house… he stops walking holding Hermione's arm. He can feel chills running down his spine. She doesn't question his action. She waits by his side.
He points a finger to the stairs. She nods.
Going first, Harry monitors Hermione's movements behind him with a hand on his back, holding hers. This might cost them precious seconds, but he's not ready to let go of her. Hermione is probably feeling the same thing that he is. That something is wrong. It's just too quiet.
Stopping at the top of the stairs, they share another look. There are three closed doors in front of them. Hermione makes a face, her head tilting to the furthest door, at the end of the hallway. Surely it's the master bedroom. Harry sets his jaw. He wants her to stay there, but he knows better than even voice this. He nods in confirmation.
They walk slowly, crouching a bit.
Harry halts when they reach the door. He uses a spell to enhance their hearing. There's someone inside. Certainly Crouch. They can hear his breathing. He's not sleeping.
Hermione purses her lips and motions to open the door. Harry holds her hand, gulping. She raises an eyebrow in question.
He has no idea why he's so hesitant. They're both trained Aurors. Powerful and more than capable of dealing with one old Auror.
But even so… he fears. For her.
The realization annoys him a little. His fear of losing her is reaching new levels and he knows it will be a problem. Hermione doesn't need protecting-
She tilts her head, her eyes small. He can tell she understood his thoughts and before Harry can stop her, Hermione opens the door in one motion.
Harry takes in the scene in front of him in seconds. The bed facing the door is the first thing he sees. There's a huge writing on the wall above the headboard.
I'm sorry
It says.
And on the bed, Crouch has his eyes wide open. He's sitting there, with his back against the headboard, facing the door, facing Harry and Hermione. He's wearing a white t-shirt and some white shorts. All the sheets are white. The headboard is white. The rug on the floor is white.
There's nothing else inside the room.
It takes Harry a few more blinks to realize that the man is holding a knife to his throat. Hermione tries using a spell to stop Crouch, but there's a heavy shield around him, one they won't be able to take down before the man slits his throat open.
Harry inhales sharply when Crouch indeed does it, his eyes on Harry.
The blood takes over the room. It spills from the open throat in waves. It's grotesque and nauseating. Hermione curses, one hand on her mouth. She looks down.
Harry keeps looking at the man dying in front of him. It gives him no satisfaction. But he can't avert his eyes. And it's another dead end. Another Auror they won't get answers from. Did Crouch know something important? Is that the reason why he decided to kill himself? Does he, like Goyle, know who Harry is?
Pursing his lips, Harry crosses his arms. Hermione leaves the room. She's angry about the way he was being overprotective. But his mind is not ready to think about this. Now he'll have to wait another month to go look for answers. And that pisses him off immensely.
He can hear Hermione descending the stairs.
With a flick of his wand, he wipes away the 'I'm sorry' and writes: Iustitia.
Closing the door, Harry meets Hermione downstairs. She's leaning against a wall, her eyes hard on him.
"Don't you ever do that again." She says in a low voice. "I treat you as my equal, Harry. I expect you to do the same."
He snorts. "Can't I fear for you? Fuck, Hermione." He's angry.
"I fear for you too. But you can take care of yourself. The same way I can take care of myself. These kind of protective bullshit can get in our way rather than helping us when we're out in the field like this."
She's right. But he doesn't particularly care. He shakes his head.
"Right. Sorry, boss." He knows how bitter he sounds.
Hermione clicks her tongue. "Don't act like a child, Harry."
"I'll act the way I want to because I'm doing everything you're asking of me, Hermione. I've agreed with all your decisions. But excuse me if I'm a bit angry that this is another dead end-"
"Why do you care so much?" She cuts him, taking a step forward. "Why are you so anxious and nervous about this, Harry? Are you that curious to know what happened? That eager?" She narrows her eyes. "Did you lie to me? Do you really have no other reasons why you want to investigate this Persecution?"
He takes a step back at that. And he shuts his mouth. He fears anything he says might show her the truth. Hermione keeps waiting for an answer.
"Answer me." She says. "Don't lie this time."
"You know what, Hermione? Yes, I have my reasons for wanting answers." She widens her eyes. "And they're only mine." He says sharply. "But don't worry. I'll keep obeying you."
"I don't want you to obey me, Harry. I want you to talk with me. I can see your anger and distress and how much this messes with you. You think I don't notice the way you act?"
He snorts. "Nonsense."
Hermione sighs, taking another step to him. And her face changes completely. "I went back to Lestrange's. And to Goyle's." He stiffens. "They're dead. Brutally murdered. Do you know anything about that?"
He crosses his arms. "Are you accusing me of something?"
"Are you guilty of something?" She looks angry now. "Because as far as I know, only you," She points to him, "me," she points to herself, "And the Minister know where these Aurors are."
"Then you should be asking the same thing to your father!"
She grunts, annoyed. "Fine. You don't want to talk about it. Fine." She waves a hand in front of her, dismissing the subject. "But then don't expect me to fully trust you."
Her words make him sick. And even angrier. "Don't give me that, Hermione. You hide a lot of things from me. Huge things."
"Maybe it's just part of who I am." She says in a low voice. "If you're waiting for me to share everything with you, Harry, I'm sorry to say that you'll be disappointed."
He scoffs. "Likewise."
She nods her head. "So that's how it's going to be?"
"Yes."
"Good to know." She says and they share an intense look. "At least, Crouch is already dead." She says coldly.
Harry gulps.
And then she's gone.
February 24th, 2006
Ministry of Magic
Harry's fuming when he arrives on the Auror's floor. He's been incredibly angry for the past week since he had that little fight with Hermione. She's ignoring him and he feels murderous each time he sees her at the Ministry, most times with Pettigrew by her side.
Even if he's lying to her, hiding things… she's doing the same!
He was not happy yesterday when he went to the Palace to teach his masterclass. Petunia asked what was wrong and his only answer was a groan. But the lesson was fine, everything went smoothly and seeing the students' faces gave Harry some kind of peace. He feels calmer today, but still-
His left hand started to itch yesterday. And even if he has no idea what it means, deep down in his heart he's sure it's about Hermione.
So, as he walks to her office, he tries easing his temper-
"She's not here." Ron says from behind him. "I'm in charge today."
Harry frowns. His heart beats faster. "Did something happen?"
"She's just sick. A flu." Ron shrugs. "Even with the potions and stuff, sometimes it's impossible to get better fast."
Harry crosses his arms. Worried. "Is… Pettigrew with her?" He asks, looking around and not seeing the stronzo.
"No. He's out of town. Again." Ron gives him a pointed look. "You know what, go to her, Harry. I can tell something is off with you two and it's just a pain in the ass being around Hermione when she's acting like a bitch." He says so naturally that Harry chuckles. He forgets that Ron might be Hermione's version of what Chiara is to him.
"You think I should?" He bites his lower lip. "I mean, we're kind of… well, we had a fight."
"Shocking." Ginny says from behind Harry, participating in the conversation. "I mean, Hermione is spitting fire all the time now, and you look like you're about to beat the shit out of someone, so, it was pretty obvious."
Harry makes a face. "She's hiding things from me." He says in a low voice.
"She hides things from everyone." Ron states. "And don't be a hypocrite, you're hiding a lot from her too."
Ginny points to him with a finger, agreeing with Ron. "Whatever happened, try fixing it." She says.
"Why should I be the one apologizing? I don't see her trying to talk to me." He says, outraged.
Ron and Ginny share a look. Then Ginny says, "Harry, seriously. Go to her."
"Yeah, mate. Nothing happens around here these days, anyways."
Making a face, he sighs. "Okay. Fine." And before he strides to the elevators, he says, "Wish me luck."
Hermione's house
This time he spots her the moment he apparates inside. She's sleeping on the couch. And the sight of her brings a smile to his face.
Crookshanks comes to him, rubbing himself on his legs and Harry fetches the cat. He sits on a chair in front of the couch, observing her.
She looks terrible. But still beautiful.
There are many tissues laying about, not to mention a few potions and she's under at least two blankets. Hermione is snoring softly, her nose clearly clogged. He shakes his head, still smiling. He has no idea why they keep wasting precious time together because of silly things…
He makes a face. Maybe not that silly. After all, she knows he killed Lestrange and Goyle. And she knows he has an agenda when it comes to investigating the Persecution. Crookshanks meows and Harry puts the cat down. He doesn't want to wake her, so, sighing, he heads to the kitchen.
It takes him maybe an hour to prepare an onion soup and magically bake some Italian bread. She needs to eat and hydrate herself properly.
And when he heads back into the living room, she's awake, sitting on the couch, still under the blankets. Her hair a mess. She opens and closes her mouth at the sight of him. Harry is holding a tray with food and a jug of water.
In silence, he puts it on the table and crosses his arms. "You need to eat." He says, his voice low.
"What are you doing here?" She's sick but she's still angry.
"I'm here to take care of you."
"I don't need-"
He raises a hand. "I know you don't need me. But I'm here because I want to. Let me, please?"
She purses her lips and then she sneezes, grunting. Hermione lies back on the couch. "Okay." She says in a stuffy voice.
"Are you taking your potions?" He asks, walking closer to the couch.
"Yes." She says. "But I'm not getting any better. If anything I feel worse." She whines. "Everything hurts."
Harry sits close to her. Hermione moves her head to look at him. Her nose is red and he smiles fondly. "Wanna eat?" He asks. "I made you some soup-"
One of her hands touch his arm. "Thank you. You didn't have to." And then her left hand seeks his. Harry squeezes hers when the tingle comes to life.
Hermione closes her eyes. The sensation is good. And the itching he's been feeling finally stops. Harry brings her hand to his lips, kissing it gently.
"Better?" He asks. Maybe the tingle…
"Yes." She says, her voice firm. "Lie down with me." It's more an order than a request.
Not thinking twice, he gets rid of his shoes and climbs the couch, lying with her, bringing her to his arms. She sighs, hugging him in a tight embrace. Harry kisses her temple. She's a bit hot.
"Have you checked if you have a fever?" He asks.
"No."
"Maybe you should go to St. Mungo's." He says, his hand going up and down her arm. She snuggles closer to him. And his heart is already lighter. The itching is gone from his left hand.
"I hate that Hospital." She says, serious. "And I'm already loads better now that you're here with me." She kisses his chest. "I'm sorry about the other-"
"No, look, I'm sorry. It's just… I trust you to tell me things when the time is right and I hope you can do the same."
"Of course. When you're ready to tell me, I'll be here." She says in a strange voice. Harry frowns. "I'm… just not used to share like this. Mostly because I never felt the need to and it… scares me a bit that I want to tell you everything all the time."
He sighs. "It's the same with me, love."
"I guess we only have to learn how to open up about certain things."
"I guess."
And they fall into a comfortable silence. Harry missed her so much. He caresses her head, his fingers playing with her wavy hair. She might be falling asleep again.
"You owe me three dates." She says after a while in a low voice, her eyes closed.
He blinks. "Three?" He keeps playing with her hair, her legs on his.
"The day Chiara showed up, last week that we were at Crouch's and today."
"Indeed." He agrees, kissing her temple again. Hermione sighs. "I'll make it up to you."
"You'd better."
He chuckles lightly. "I love you." He says, all his anger evaporating.
Hermione opens her eyes and looks up at him. "I love you too." She whispers. "I just won't kiss you because I don't want you to be-"
He shuts her with a kiss. Gentle. "I don't care." He says, his nose bumping into hers. "It's just a flu. It can't keep me away from you." He kisses the corner of her mouth. "Besides, if I get sick, you can take care of me." He winks at her. She chuckles and coughs nastily. "Sexy." He says, making her laugh harder. And cough harder.
Harry chuckles, squeezing her in his arms.
Hermione sighs. "Can I live between your arms? They're so cozy." She says slowly, nuzzling him.
"How would I do my things?" He jokes. "Would you be attached to my chest or something?"
"That's actually the best idea ever." She says in a dreamy voice. "I could be with you twenty-four/seven."
"The scariest thing is that I also like the idea." He laughs, bringing her closer. Then, after a silence, he says, "I don't want to fight with you again. I felt awful the whole week."
"Me too." But Hermione grunts. "But we can't agree on everything, it's a bit impossible for us to not fight again."
He clicks his tongue. "Why are you always right?"
She snorts. "I wish. But do please keep thinking like that. It makes things easier." She jokes.
Harry opens his mouth to tease her, but a Patronus invades the living room. Ginny's.
"Hermione! The Ministry was attacked! An explosion inside your office! Ron was there. He's badly injured. Meet us at St. Mungo's."
Harry and Hermione sit in one go. And she closes her eyes, a hand on her head. "You're dizzy." Harry says, holding her. "Take deep breaths."
"Fuck! This can't be happening." She says. Hermione motions to stand and Harry stops her.
"You need to eat first."
"What? Are you crazy? My best friend is at-"
"I don't care." He says firmly. "You'll eat or else you'll just faint and it won't help any of us." She presses her lips together. "I'll go. See how he is. Ginny knows I'm here." He says.
"She knows?" Hermione widens her eyes.
"I said I was going to check on you. Ron himself said I should come." He levitates the tray to her lap. "Eat." Harry stands up and runs a hand through his hair. "I'll be waiting for you there, okay?"
She makes a face and nods, clearly annoyed that she's being bossed around. Harry kisses her forehead and apparates to the Hospital.
St. Mungo's
He meets Ginny when he arrives. Her eyes are red and Draco is by her side, hugging her. He gives Harry a desperate look when he spots him. Harry gulps. So, that bad, huh?
"Ginny, what happened?" He asks her, his hand on her arm, trying to comfort her a bit.
She sniffs, tears rolling from her eyes. There's a cut on her cheek and Harry notices that Draco is also hurt. A cut on his arm.
"It happened so fast, Harry." Her voice is barely there. "We were at the Auror's floor, doing our things normally and Ron was inside Hermione's office, searching for a few files." She gulps, closing her eyes. Harry squeezes her arm. "Then we heard an explosion. I was deft for a minute, because it was so close, on our floor. But as I looked around I saw nothing, so I was sure it had been inside the office." She looks at Draco. "We ran there, and when we opened the door-" She chokes, crying.
Draco gulps. "Ron was unconscious, some debris hit his head, he was bleeding on the floor. There was no one else inside and we don't know how it happened, but it was probably targeting Hermione. Her office was the only one wrecked."
Harry sets his jaw. "Let me guess. A Muggle bomb." He says, gulping.
Draco nods, his expression tired. "We left some Aurors in charge and called in Sirius and Remus. Riddle was notified, but our priority now is Ron."
"Of course." Harry says. "How is he?"
"Not good." Ginny cries. "I've warned my family and Luna. They should be here shortly. Where's Hermione?"
"She'll be here soon." Harry says. "She had to eat and gain some strength in order not to faint."
"Shit, she's going to feel terrible about this." Ginny says, flinching.
Harry chews the insides of his cheeks. They were targeting her. He doesn't even want to entertain the thought. He would lose his shit if she was in a critical situation at the Hospital.
And just then, Hermione appears at the end of the hallway. She runs when she spots them. "How is he?" She asks, still a few feet away from them, clearly out of breath because of her flu. Hermione coughs when she stops by their side.
Ginny shakes her head, hugging Hermione. "The healer said it doesn't look good. He lost a lot of blood and head traumas are always tricky-"
"He'll be fine." Hermione says firmly, soothing Ginny. "It's Ron." She says, her words carrying all the meaning it has to. The three share a look. Harry knows they're thinking about everything they've already been through together.
And then, Pettigrew appears.
He comes fast to them, his face showing a shocked expression. Harry watches, taking a step back while Pettigrew hugs Ginny and Draco, then his arms settle around Hermione just after they share a kiss. Harry grits his teeth. It seems like Hermione doesn't even remember that he's there as she clings to Pettigrew and he hugs her tightly.
"It's okay. He'll be fine." Pettigrew is saying, Hermione is wavering a bit in his arms and the knife twists inside Harry's chest.
He wished he could be the one holding her in public. He should be the one doing that.
But Luna arrives, and they finally let go of each other. Harry stays put, taking a few steps back, leaning on a wall, watching the friends that have known each other practically their entire lives. Does he even has a place here? Among them?
He walks away. He has no idea where he's going, but he needs a moment to think, a moment to put his mind back together.
Another attack.
The target was clearly Hermione. His heart is beating fast while he walks through the corridors. How a Muggle bomb got inside the Ministry? How long has it been there? Was it set to go off today? Or it was just a coincidence? Exactly on the one day that Hermione doesn't go to work because of a flu that won't go away.
Harry sits on a couch at the lobby. His hands holding his head, his elbows on his thighs. He notices that he's crying. For Ron and because of the situation.
He leans back, sighing and wiping his tears. He doesn't know how to help. He has no idea what to do. Maybe he should go to the Ministry. But if Riddle is taking care of things, he won't like Harry's presence.
He closes his eyes. The way Hermione hugged Pettigrew is printed into his mind. He can't be sure if he's able of dealing with this. She won't say why she's still planning to marry him even after saying multiple times that she loves Harry- Fuck. She was just saying she wanted to live between my arms. He gulps.
Suddenly, he remembers something she said a long time ago when he first saw her Patronus: "But she's double-hearted, you know?"
Chiara's voice fills his head, "She'll break your heart, Harry."
How can he fully understand Hermione? Is it possible without completely opening up and asking for her to do the same? Didn't they just fight about this? About hiding things from each other?
A hand rests on his shoulder. Harry opens his eyes, not quite believing. It's Chiara.
He opens and closes his mouth.
"I got pretty close to Ginny when I spent those few days here." She shrugs, sitting by his side. He takes her hand, squeezing it, breathing slowly. "She sent a Patronus and since I was leaving work I decided to drop by." She's wearing her deep green Head Auror's uniform. "Is it bad?"
Harry sighs. "It seems so."
Chiara clicks her tongue. "Someone clearly wants to kill Head Riddle, huh?"
"Do you have any idea of who-"
"Her father." Chiara says, sure.
He widens his eyes and puts up a silencing bubble around them. "What?"
"I don't know. It's just a crazy hunch. The way he looks at her, Harry. It isn't the way a loving father should look at his daughter."
Harry wets his lips and leans closer to her, their heads together. "Don't talk about this to anyone else." He warns her and Chiara nods.
"I won't. Besides, I have no proof. But if you want to bet, I'm in."
Harry blinks a few times, wondering why he didn't consider this before… "But it can't be. Whoever is doing this, is killing Purebloods. Using Muggle stuff. Riddle would rather die-"
"But it would be genius." Chiara says. "No one is ever going to suspect him."
Harry gulps. He thought the same about Hermione at one point… could it be?
"How are you?" Chiara asks, changing the subject.
"I've been better." He sighs, his thumb caressing her hand. "You?"
She tilts her head. "Well, I'm exhausted." She lets out a chuckle. Harry smiles with her. "We had a mission yesterday and it's been almost 48 hours since I last slept." She laughs a bit hysterically. "So, I'm feeling a bit drunk, you know?"
"I know." He kisses her hand. "It's nice that you came." He looks deep into her black eyes. "You're the best."
She touches her forehead on his. "Don't torture me like this, amore."
Harry closes his eyes.
"Chiara, you came!" Ginny's voice reaches them and the moment breaks.
Harry opens his eyes to see Hermione and the others walking to them. But he avoids looking at her. This is not the time or place to be jealous. And since Pettigrew is holding her hand, he really wants to focus on Ron and on what Ginny is telling Chiara.
Chiara nods and says, "Don't worry, really." She takes Ginny's hand. "We had a similar situation once, remember, Harry?" He nods. "An explosion." Chiara sighs. "Many were badly injured but the rescue was fast, just like with Ron, they're all fine and I'm sure the same will happen with your brother."
Harry looks at her. Chiara is truly behaving like a leader. And he's proud of her.
Ginny sighs in relief. "I don't want to get my hopes up-"
"But you should!" Chiara says and turns to Luna, "You should. He'll be fine."
And then she hugs Ginny and Luna. Harry pockets his hands.
And before anyone can say a thing, a healer reaches them. "Luna Weasley? He's awake. And he'll be fine."
Harry sighs, a ton being lifted from his chest. And instinctively he looks at Hermione. Pettigrew is hugging her. He gulps. Chiara comes to his side. The others are all talking with the healer.
"I should go." She says to him. "I mean, sto morta." [I'm dead.]
He laughs, one of his arms around her shoulders. "Sleep at my place." He says to her. "We need to talk."
"I need to sleep."
"You're not well to take a Portkey right now." He says, raising an eyebrow.
She clicks her tongue. "Okay."
And when he focus on the others, his eyes meet Hermione's. Her lips are pursed together. She doesn't seem angry or jealous… just- sad.
He nods to her and she nods back as a way of saying goodbye. Harry hugs Ginny, telling her that he'll be back tomorrow to check on Ron. He would stay there, but Chiara needs to sleep and suddenly he desperately wants to share a lot with her.
Ginny obviously understands and thanks Chiara for even coming.
When they're walking away, Harry has no idea why, but he takes Chiara's hand in his.
Harry's flat
"Well." Chiara says. She's lying down on his couch that he transformed into a bed. Harry is lying by her side, both with their stomachs up and hands behind their heads. "Am I dreaming this?" She blinks a few times.
"No. It's all true."
Harry just told her everything.
About who he is. What he's doing in London. Everything. He even found a way of "cheating" the Vow he made not to reveal Sirius and the others by just implying a few things and letting Chiara conclude for herself.
She turns to look at him. Her eyes are heavy. He should have let her sleep, but he understood he couldn't hold these things any longer inside him. He can't tell Hermione - who he really wanted to have this conversation with - and he always planned on telling Chiara everything at some point, so, he just blurted it all out the moment they arrived at the flat.
"And you love Hermione Riddle." Chiara states, snorting. "What a mess, Harry."
He grunts. "I know." A silence fills the room. "Are you angry I never told you?"
"A bit." She answers sincerely, her voice strange. "I mean, I was going to be your wife and I had no idea."
"I'm sorry. It's hard talking about this. But I'm relieved that you know everything."
She yawns. "It's okay." She wipes some tears from the yawn. "Harry Potter." She says his name with some flair. "I like it. Suits you."
"You think so?"
"Yeah." Chiara squeezes his arm. "I'm sorry about your parents, Harry." He purses his lips. "And I want to meet your aunt." She yawns again. He opens a smile.
"Maybe I can take you there tomorrow. And I'm sorry I kept you awake. Sleep, Chi." He kisses her hand, holding it.
She mumbles something, and on the next minute she's asleep.
Harry lets out a sigh. He feels so much better now that he told her. It's a huge relief. Closing his eyes, he can only imagine what it'll feel like to tell Hermione.
But at the same time, he can't help dreading the moment.
It could go extremely bad.
March 5th, 2006
Harry's flat
He flips the coin into the air. Fuck it.
Harry sends her a message.
Are you free tonight?
Differently from the other times that things got awkward between them, this time it wasn't like that. This time, they're both distant, sad. Harry feels bad about the way she still treats Pettigrew lovingly and he knows that she's utterly hurt by the fact that Chiara slept at his place.
And on top of everything, the fight they had at Crouch's still looms over their heads.
Secrets. Lies. Untold plans. Suspicions.
Yes
It's all she answers.
Harry chews the insides of his cheeks. He wants to take her out. A night out in Muggle London as two strangers. In places where no one will know who they are. Places where they're free to be themselves. To be the couple they should be.
Want to go on a date?
He snorts at his own uncertainty. Maybe she's had enough of him. Maybe Hermione is finally seeing clearly that Harry is just-
What time?
He tilts his head.
7pm
Crossing his arms he looks at the wall with all his plans. Her name still has a circle around it. One he made a long time ago when he got back from a pub, on the night that she first asked if he wanted dancing lessons from her. He sighs. Even back then he already felt something for her. An undeniable pull. Desire.
Did she feel it too?
Your place?
Hermione asks.
His mind goes through almost everything they shared these past months. It was impossible for him not to fall in love with her.
Wait for me at yours
He gulps and pockets the coin. He has a few hours to get ready.
He wants this night to be special.
Hermione's house
Harry knocks on the door. He didn't want to apparate inside. And he really hopes the protection around her house conceals his presence from possible prying eyes.
Hermione opens the door, blinking.
He opens his mouth.
She looks stunning.
She's wearing a deep red dress. It's simple but the cleavage is quite provocative. It's also loose and mid thigh. His eyes wander to her legs, black stilettos on her feet. She's wearing make up and her hair is glowing, its long waves framing her beautiful face.
Harry clears his throat. He also put some effort into looking nice. Shiny black shoes, black trousers and a blue shirt, a black jacket. His hair is pushed back.
"You look gorgeous." He says, awe in his voice.
She smiles. He can see that adorable blush on her neck. "You look good too." She winks.
He extends his hand for her to take. Hermione frowns. "Come on." He says and she rolls her eyes, closing the door behind her and taking the hand.
Harry immediately interlaces their fingers, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it gently. She tugs at his and Harry stops. Hermione cups his face with her other hand, their eyes locked.
She sighs, pressing her forehead to his. They share a soft kiss.
"Let's enjoy the night, okay?" He says in a low voice. He wants to leave all the bad feelings behind.
She nods. "Okay." Harry resumes their walk, their hands together. "So, where are we going?"
He smiles. They stop on the sidewalk. With a wave of his hand, the car door opens. Hermione clicks her tongue, smiling and shaking her head. The car is concealed by a spell, invisible.
"So, no apparating, I guess." She says.
"Not tonight." He helps her inside and Hermione thanks him.
Harry got a Ferrari for them. And he used all the right spells to make it magical.
He sits at the driver's seat and she opens a tiny smile. "Does it fly?" She asks with a playful tone.
"It does." He winks.
With a flick of his wrist, the car starts hovering, distancing itself from the floor. Hermione laughs. He can tell that she's excited.
"It seems that I have an urge to take you to storage rooms while you keep finding ways to make me fly." She says fondly, her voice soft.
"It seems so." He leans over to kiss her cheek. "But I love the storage rooms." He bites her cheek gently. She snorts.
Harry ignites the car and wiggles his eyebrows to her when he steps on the accelerator. She shakes her head, snorting.
"It's not really the experience of driving around if we're not on the actual street." She says.
"Oh, don't worry. I'm taking us to a deserted street so I can land the car. From there I'm taking you to a nice restaurant."
"Muggle London?"
"Yes." He winks at her.
They soar through the clouds in silence. Harry can feel that the sadness and awkwardness are going away slowly. He takes her hand in his and they keep it that way on his thigh. He occasionally looks down to check if he's going to the right direction.
"It baffles me the way the British conduct. I mean, the side, the streets, it's all inverted!"
Hermione raises one eyebrow. "Is it hard? To drive?"
"Not really. Once you understand what you're doing it's pretty simple."
"Would you teach me?"
He looks at her and opens a smile. "Of course. I just don't know if a Ferrari is an ideal first try."
"What's the worst that could happen?"
"You can drive us into a tree at 300km/h and we're going to be instantly dead."
"But we're not Muggles, Harry. We can actually stop this from happening."
He squints. "That we can… okay. We're going to eat and then I have a little surprise, and after we can find empty streets for you to try."
"A surprise, huh?" She kinda of groans.
He laughs. "You'll like it." He kisses her hand. "Have you completely healed? From the flu?" He lowers his voice, not wanting to touch the subject because of everything that comes with it, but needing to know if she's better.
"Yes. I mean… I saw a healer. Since I was already at the Hospital because of Ron, there was no reason not to. Two right potions and I was new." He nods, pursing his lips. And then- "It was nice of Chiara to show up."
"It was." He says, looking down, pretending that he doesn't know where the conversation is heading.
Hermione sighs. "Did you have sex?"
Harry clicks his tongue. "Do you have sex with Pettigrew? On a regular basis?" He hates himself for asking. So much. But he can't stand the way she's making this question as if she's not engaged to another man.
Hermione puts two fingers against her temple. "That's not a fair question."
He nods, inhaling deeply. "We did not have sex. We didn't even kiss, Hermione. Chiara is my friend." He says, his chest hurting because her answer is answer enough. He presses his lips together. Suddenly he wants to cry.
"The last time I had sex with Pettigrew was on Christmas." She says in a low voice. He turns his head to her, sharply. He was not expecting this. It's been a long while, then. He opens his mouth, but she cuts him. "That's not relevant, Harry. I'm sorry I even asked about you and Chiara, it's just that you seemed so close that day… from what I saw." She shrugs.
She sounds sad.
"I hate seeing you like this." He says.
"Like what?"
"Sad." She wets her lips, avoiding his eyes. "You're sad, Hermione. Sad because you're forcing yourself to be with a man that you don't love." He's practically whispering.
"I don't wanna talk about this."
"Fine. Have it your way."
Hermione sighs. "What about Sally?" She asks out of the blue.
Harry frowns. "It didn't work out between us. I won't force myself to marry her when I clearly want someone else." He looks at her, his words clear.
She gulps but says nothing more. Harry squeezes her hand, then he kisses it again, briefly closing his eyes. Why is it so hard for them to come to an understanding about their… relationship? And why things are suddenly even more complicated?
He shakes his head and notices that he's close to the street he planned to land. Harry releases her hand to steer correctly, but Hermione leaves it there on his thigh. A reassuring weight telling him that even if things are messy, she's still there.
Harry is careful when searching for the right spot. The street is indeed empty and he waits for a moment before lifting the charm capable of turning the car invisible. Hermione stays silent the whole time, her eyes on the outside, her chin resting on her hand.
He would give his whole fortune to know what she's thinking.
"A galleon for your thoughts." He whispers.
She turns to look at him. "I'm hungry." She answers. He tilts his head, snorting.
Harry steers the car, driving smoothly. "There's no way of someone recognizing us, is there?" He asks.
"I highly doubt. I mean, Purebloods never go to Muggle London." She sighs. "And you know what? Even if someone sees us… I don't care."
He gives her a side glance, his attention on the street. She seems fed up. Not with him. But with the situation. He wants to ask her what he means to her, how she sees him in her life. He wants to ask if this is for real. If she wants to take the risks with him for them to be together. Because that's what he wants.
However, he only clears his throat and takes her hand again, squeezing gently. Hermione sighs.
And finally Harry turns on the street that the restaurant awaits them. He has no problem finding a place to park - mostly because he enchanted the spot earlier, driving away anyone who might want to occupy it.
He gets out of the car and goes to her door, opening it. Hermione takes his hand and he closes the door. They share a look. Something swims in her eyes. A new emotion Harry's not sure what it means. But it's soon gone.
Hermione interlaces their fingers and Harry leads her to the restaurant.
They leave the restaurant in an embrace, his arm around her shoulders, one of hers on his waist. Clearly, eating was everything Hermione needed. She seems another person now. And Harry smiles. Well, yeah, they drank two whole bottles of wine, and maybe this nice inebriated state is the one responsible for dispersing their sadness, but he doesn't care.
"So, liked it?" He asks, leaning to her for a kiss.
"Loved it." She kisses him again. "The food was delicious and the company even better."
They sat side by side, close, their hands together, their conversation in whispers with their heads almost touching. It was like a dream. Harry can feel all the butterflies in his stomach. All the excitement of sharing this with her.
But what he considers the best part of the night is coming.
"Hey!" Hermione exclaims when he steers her away from the car. "Where are we going?"
He smiles. "You'll see. It's a short walk from here." He pulls her closer, kissing her temple.
Walking in silence and in peace, Harry wonders if life could be like this at all times. He wonders if it will come a day when they'll be allowed to walk like this inside the Ministry. He wonders if Hermione even wants this.
But he mostly wonders what she would do if he told her who he truly is. And what really brought him to London.
"Why are you frowning?" She asks, looking at him. "A galleon for you thoughts." She whispers close to his ear.
As it turns out, he's saved by the bell. They just arrived at their destination. Harry stops and kisses her.
People walking close by do not mind the couple.
"First," He says, his mouth close to hers, "this." He moves and smiles to the florist who's standing in front of a little shop.
He holds Hermione's hand while he talks to the older woman, saying that he would like to buy a beautiful and unique flower for the woman he loves. Hermione blushes, her smile wide while the florist talks about red roses. Harry shakes his head. He gave Sally some roses when he first visited her house. Hermione deserves something of hers. Something that is about their love.
Smiling, he chooses one beautiful red tulip. He pays the florist and turns to Hermione.
"A red tulip for my love." He says, kissing her. "It is said that the black center represents a lover's heart, darkened by the heat of passion." He says in a low voice. "My heart burns for you, Hermione. It has been so for a while."
She gulps, a tear rolling down her cheek. Hermione smells the flower, closing her eyes. "Everlasting love." She says in a whisper. "It can also mean that, a red tulip."
"Perfect, then."
She cups his cheek, kissing him softly. "Thank you."
"We have one more stop." He says, taking her hand again and guiding her to the next shop.
"A bookstore?" She tilts her head, smiling.
He winks. "You have stacked books inside your office, inside your room, at your living room…" He enters the shop with her, "But tonight I want to try something different."
"Like what?" She's already scanning through the many titles, a new light on her face.
"I want to buy you one of my favorite books. And I want you to buy me one of yours."
"I'm not sure I have a favorite book," She makes a face and whispers inside his ear, "these are all Muggle books, Harry."
He chuckles, squinting. "I've seen a few Muggle books inside your room, don't deny it."
"I won't. But I've read like two or three, how can I pick a favorite?"
"I trust your judgment." He gives her a peck. "Go explore." And winking, he releases her hand and walks further inside the place, leaving her there at the entrance.
Hermione opens her mouth to him, looking gorgeous with a faint blush on her cheeks from the wine, the red tulip in her hand. Then she opens a dashing smile and he's sure his heart stops. He knows he'll forever remember this moment. The books around her, that smile, her dress, the tulip. And how much he loves her.
He puts one hand over his heart, smiling.
And then the moment breaks and she walks to the nearest bookcase, searching for what Harry is sure will be the perfect book.
He already knows what he's looking for, so he browses through the shop slowly, mostly trying to get a glimpse of her. She's in deep thought and he leans on one shelf after picking the book he's buying, watching her.
As he does it, he feels a sudden urge to… buy her a ring. An engagement ring. Harry chews the insides of his cheeks. She said she wouldn't change her mind about marrying Pettigrew. Does she still think like this? Is that her wish?
He changes his weight from one foot to another, gulping.
It looks like she chose a book.
Harry walks to her, not trying to see the title, but focusing on taking her hand and heading to the counter.
"This place is really nice." She says to him. "There are so many options."
"And also a cafe at the back." He points for her to see.
But she tries peeking at the title of the book he's holding and Harry shields it with his body, raising an eyebrow to her. She makes a face.
"I'm just curious."
"Oh, really?" He mocks her and she squeezes his hand.
Harry pays for the book and Hermione does the same, then they head out. When they reach the car, he discreetly and magically wraps it. The moment they settle inside, Harry turns to her.
"Here." He hands her the book, not wanting to kill her from curiosity.
Hermione claps her hands, delighted, seizing the book from him.
"Invisible Cities." She says the title out loud. "Italo Calvino." He opens a tiny smile at her pronunciation.
"He's Italian." He states. "And this book is amazing. I'm sure you'll read more than once."
"Yeah?" She asks, browsing the pages, already very absorbed by it. "Why is that?"
"Because you'll learn something new each time. It's quite impressive." She's reading the synopsis.
Then Hermione looks at him. "I loved it." And she moves to kiss him in thanks.
Harry smiles, happy. "Where's mine?" He pouts.
She chuckles. "Here." Hermione hands him one wrapped book. "I've read this one." She says before he tears the wrapping. "And… there's a singular phrase that…" Hermione gulps, blinking a few times, "that's just perfect to describe what I feel for you, Harry."
He looks at the title. "Wuthering Heights. I've never read it."
Hermione looks down at her lap, Harry stops a moment to observe her. And then she's quoting the book: "'He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same'."
Her eyes meet his. His mouth is hanging open.
"Marry me." He blurts out.
Hermione blinks, incredulous. She opens and closes her mouth a few times. Then she closes her eyes. "Harry." She whispers his name. "No." Her voice breaks.
Harry is silently crying. "Hermione." He takes her hand. "Why? Why you keep rejecting me? We love each other."
She shakes her head. "I said that nothing would change my mind, Harry-"
"Fuck that, Hermione, honestly! Look at me." He pleads and she turns to face him. "Marry me."
"Stop." She says, crying, her voice breaking again. "Please, stop."
He looks down, gulping. "If you- if you don't wanna marry me, if you're going to marry that jerk, then really… what are we doing? How do you think this is going to go? What's your plan? Am I supposed to be your lover on the side for the rest of our lives?"
She makes a face. "We have no future, Harry." Her voice is low.
He purses his lips, releasing her hand. "Because that's the choice you're making!"
"It's not that simple!"
"Why? Don't want to go against your father? Against the man who tortured you?" He scoffs. "Are you marrying Pettigrew to please that monster? Is that it? Are you that weak, Hermione?"
Her expression changes.
She sets her jaw, hurt. "Don't talk about things you have no idea of, D'Angelo." His surname hits him like a brick. She puts one hand on the door's handle. "And don't you dare calling me weak again. Ever." She narrows her eyes at him and opens the door. "I'll make it easier for us. This is over. We're done."
Harry has little time to react. When he moves out of the car, she's already heading into an alley. He runs, but when he gets there, she's gone.
Grunting and running a hand through his hair, he apparates to her house.
To meet her front door.
He widens his eyes. She prohibited him from apparating inside. He bangs the door with a fist.
"Come on, Hermione! We need to talk!"
He has no idea how long he stays there. Knocking on the door and trying to apparate inside. But there's no answer from her.
Just silence.
He sighs, touching his forehead on the door. There are some angry and sad tears running down his face.
"You're the love of my life, Hermione." He says in such a low voice that Hermione would only hear if she were right there on the other side. "I never knew I-" He chokes, "Never knew I could be this happy. You make me happy." He stops for a moment, closing his eyes. "I just wished I was enough for you. Enough for you to fight for us." He chews the insides of his cheeks. "Please, open up. Please. Let's talk about this." He knocks again. "Please."
But he knows she won't. He knows she was serious when she said they were over.
And suddenly is very hard to breathe. Harry feels suffocated, dizzy.
He leans on the door.
It can't be over.
Is it? Truly over? Have they already shared their last kiss? Their last hug? It seems so long ago the last time they made love.
The knife rips his chest open and he sobs, faintly knocking again.
"I wanna marry you." He says, "I wanna have kids with you. Build a family with you." He bites hard on his lower lip. "I want to grow old with you." He slams the door with his open palm, sad. She's not listening. She's not coming. "I just-" He sighs. "I just want you to be happy. And I hope… Pettigrew can do that."
He takes a step back from the door, blinking. It's painful. Knowing that she's doing this.
She's choosing Pettigrew. Choosing the life her father intended for her.
Harry's not enough.
He gives his back to the door, walking fast.
Then, he apparates to the alley. His heart hurting.
His hopes gone.
Over. It's over.
Note: First I want to say that I love your reviews. Really. They warm my heart and they're a nice boost for me to keep writing. So, thank you.
And, well, I see that you want answers regarding Hermione's actions and stuff, so, I think you'll be happy to know that many, many answers are coming very soon.
About the chapter… the only thing I have to say is… take a deep breath, drink some water and buckle up because things are about to get intense.