March 8th, 2006
Ministry of Magic
He feels awful. Terrible.
Yet, he still needs to come to work. Talk to people. Pretend that he's fine.
Harry confesses that he arrived late yesterday and today just to spite Hermione. He wants to provoke her, force her to talk to him. But she didn't. She ignored the fact that he was almost two hours late.
And her indifference is killing him.
His mind keeps wondering if she ever really loved him. It seems hard to believe after the way she abruptly ended things and moved on with her life as if it barely mattered. The few times he saw her around the Auror's floor, she was smiling and talking normally with everyone. In most times Pettigrew was with her.
"What's happening, Harry?"
He looks up at Ron. The man is watching him from his desk. He had a nice recovery from the explosion. Hermione's office was magically restored and so far there's no lead on how the bomb got inside. The remains of it went down to the Alchemists to examine, but Harry is sure they won't know what to do with it.
"Nothing." He says, distracted. He wonders if she thinks about him-
"Did you fight with Hermione again?" Ron asks in a low voice. "Because she's acting oddly."
"Is she?" Harry turns his head to give Ron his full attention. "Has she said anything?"
"No, but I can tell." Ron sighs. "What's going on?"
Harry wets his lips and lowers his voice. "She made her choice." And he motions to Pettigrew, who's talking to a few Aurors, probably briefing them on another customary mission.
Ron frowns. "For real?" Harry only nods, his eyes down, his chest hurting. Agony filling him. "Well, shit. I did not expect that." Harry tilts his head in question. "Even with everything I said to you… I thought she would… choose differently." Ron shrugs, an apologetic smile on his face.
Harry swallows the lump in his throat. "Me too." He whispers.
"Look, maybe we can have dinner this week at my house. There's a thing I want to talk with you about."
"A thing?" Harry asks, not quite understanding.
"Yeah." Ron widens his eyes at him, clearly not wanting to talk about whatever it is, here. "And maybe we can play some chess." Harry snorts and Ron chuckles. "I can let you win if that will make you feel better."
Harry flips him off, still chuckling. And then-
"D'Angelo." He freezes. Hermione is surely right behind him. Ron leans back on his chair to watch the exchange and Harry turns around to look at her. Hermione doesn't waste any time, "In my office. Now."
She walks away.
Harry's heart pounds inside his chest. He's up from his chair in a second, following her inside the office. Hermione doesn't look back at him. She leaves the door open when she enters, going to her desk. Harry closes the door behind him and pockets his hands, gulping.
She looks good. Today she's not wearing her uniform, but a long forest green dress that fits her perfectly. And his eyes are draw to her cleavage where a new golden necklace lies. It's simple, small. A black stone, bigger than a tear, hanging there.
Hermione leans on her desk, crossing her arms and looking at him. Harry is shaking a bit. He takes a step forward.
"If this is about me arriving-"
"I don't care what time you arrive." She cuts him sharply. "You should be more responsible than arriving two hours late. If you keep this up I'm just going to sack you without a warning."
He presses his lips together, gritting his teeth. "So? What's this about?" He asks, his voice not so friendly anymore.
"We still have two Aurors to visit."
He frowns. "Maybe we shouldn't do this together."
"Why? Because you can't handle being around me? I want to be there to make sure that you won't kill another retired Auror, D'Angelo." Her words cut the air like a knife.
He clicks his tongue. "You keep accusing me of this." He says in a low voice. Yes, he did it. But she has no concrete proof.
"And you keep lying to me about it." She states, simply. "But I don't care." She shrugs. Harry finds this extremely odd. She should care if she thinks he's some kind of assassin, shouldn't she? "Regardless, are you free tomorrow night?"
"Yes." He says.
"Good. It's settled then, we'll meet at the location around 10pm." She turns around, giving her back to him, moving to sit on her chair. "That's all."
He looks down. "You know, I never expected you to be this cold." He should leave the office, but he steps further inside. Hermione sets her jaw, watching him. "To treat me like this after everything… after saying that you loved me." He stops right in front of her desk, his hands resting on the sides. Since she's sitting, he leans down to level their eyes. There's barely any space between them. "You played with my feelings, Hermione."
She narrows her eyes. "I never lied about what we were doing. I made things perfectly clear from the start. It was you who suggested the dates. You who asked me to marry you-"
"Because I-" He stops. He doesn't want to say that he loves her. Not now. Not after what happened. "You said you never felt for anyone else what you feel for me-"
"Maybe I shouldn't have said a thing, then."
"Do you regret it? Everything?"
He leans more, very close to her now, her smell intoxicating him. Her eyes are fixed on his.
"I'm not a person who does things to regret them later. So, no. I do not regret it. But I reckon it's all in the past now. You should do the same and move on."
He scoffs, looking down. And finally moving away. He can see her taking a deep breath. "Maybe I'm not so fucking cold like that. Maybe I can't let go this easily from the person whom I was proposing three nights ago."
"Well, maybe you should. Because said person is marrying another man."
And she looks so sure saying this, Harry wants to scream. Her hand plays with the new necklace, squeezing it. And Harry hates that engagement ring shining on her finger.
"New necklace?" He asks, his voice bitter.
"Yes. A gift." She says.
He nods his head. Pettigrew, of course. She can wear the things her fiance buys for her. She can kiss and hold his hand in public.
He wonders if she threw away the tulip he gave her. And the thought wrecks him.
Harry can almost feel his heart hardening, turning into rock.
Closing.
Shielding itself from her.
He walks to the door, but before he leaves, he says, "Chiara warned me. She said you would break my heart."
Hermione snorts. "Well, what can I say? Chiara is perfect, isn't she?"
"No, she's not. But she would never do what you're doing."
And he knows he's being mean. But he doesn't really care. Harry leaves the office.
He feels even worse now.
March 9th, 2006
Northern England
He arrives before she does. It's a chilly night so he uses a spell to keep him warm. He can see the house. And he can't help frowning. Greyback lives in an isolated house in the middle of a glade. There's nothing close to it, only the trimmed grass.
But there are many trees all around, and also a river.
Across the river, a bigger forest.
Harry can see the moon, shining bright and full, giving him a notion of what to expect.
The same as the other houses, this one looks ready to crumble down. Harry crosses his arms. There's not one light lit inside. Or Greyback is not home, or he's asleep.
Or maybe lurking in the dark.
He looks down when he hears the apparating sound. Hermione is right there by his side.
They don't exchange a word.
Not even looking at her, Harry starts his walk towards the house.
He's angry. And hurt. And still totally in love with her. It feels like torture, doing this. Being this close and not allowed to take her hand. Not allowed to kiss her.
Just like it was before.
Maybe he should scream with her. Maybe he should try again to understand what's happening. Maybe it's his turn to tie her to a chair and make questions. It's not possible that Hermione is marrying Pettigrew because she wants to.
And Harry can't accept that she doesn't want to fight for them.
This.
This particular notion is keeping him awake at night. Hermione is brave and determined, strong. He's sure that if she truly loved him, she would fight.
So, his only conclusion is that everything was a lie.
And it tears him from inside out. To entertain the notion that she played with him like this- Fuck, it can't be.
"Stop." She says in a low voice.
Harry immediately halts. He can't feel any wards around the house. "What?" He asks, turning on his heels to look at her.
"Shut up." Hermione says, her eyes going from one side to the other, scanning the area. Harry purses his lips and pays attention. He can't see a threat, but… there's definitely something eerie in the air.
She raises her wand and he does the same, taking a step closer to her, ready for a fight. She looks nervous, unsure.
"What is it?" He asks again, lower this time, closer to her, his hand itching to take hers.
The house is silent. The river is flowing. The wind is blowing.
Harry gulps, a chill runs down his spine.
They're being watched.
"There's something." Hermione says, barely moving her lips. "Behind the trees."
He's careful enough not to look. "A trap?"
"I don't think so." They're frozen on the spot. "I don't think we should move. It feels like a predator."
"Agreed."
"Maybe we should leave. Come back another-"
But her words are abruptly cut by a howl. Harry widens his eyes. And he instinctively moves to her, his arms shielding her from the direction where the howl came from. Hermione makes no objection, raising her wand and positioning herself between his arms.
Harry's honestly so afraid of what might be on the other side of the river that he has no time to think about their proximity.
"Let's apparate." He says to her. Their eyes glued on the forest ahead.
Hermione nods. "I think it would be wiser-"
Another howl.
This time so close Harry flinches. And the moment he turns around, there's a huge werewolf behind him.
It happens so fast. Extremely fast.
They were fooled by the beast. The wind gave them the impression that the werewolf was far away, in the distance, but in reality it was coming from their backs, sneaking on them, ready to rip their throats open.
Harry's only reaction is to shove Hermione away. He uses a spell to blow her far, a shield around her while she's taken to safety.
And the werewolf uses the moment to jump on him.
His wand flies away and he hits the ground, in an absurd moment, he sees himself fighting hand to hand with the werewolf. The beast is pinning him down on the ground.
And that's a fight Harry's bound to lose.
He grits his teeth, avoiding the beast's jaw, but he can feel its sharp nails digging on his sides and he screams, his hands trying to punch the werewolf or at least create an opportunity for him to flee.
The beast stinks. Harry can feel the slobber dripping on his neck. And he surely never wished to be this close to such sharp and deadly teeth.
So, he's not thinking clearly, just panicking.
It's the first time ever that he comes this close to a werewolf. The first time ever that he feels a new kind of unadulterated fear. It's sheer fear. And he's only moving, fighting, trying, because there's no other option.
But he's weaker. And smaller.
He's losing the fight and the werewolf is opening its jaw to rip Harry's throat.
In a last attempt, Harry uses his arm to shield his throat from the fatal bite.
He screams.
And a spell hits the werewolf so strongly that the beast flies to the river, howling in pain.
Harry exhales, his eyes seeking Hermione. She's coming fast, running to him, both his wand and hers in her hand.
He can tell she's screaming his name. But Harry's bleeding, already dizzy.
And when she kneels by his side, desperate, her hands immediately on his arm, he knows it's bad.
He dares looking before closing his eyes. He can feel himself slipping away. But he sees it. The bite through the fabric of his sweater. And the searing pain takes over him.
Then, it's all darkness.
He screams. Harry's burning up.
There are voices around him. Many. But he only recognizes hers. She sounds crazy, desperate.
He screams again, trashing. He can tell he's on a bed.
His arm is- it's a kind of pain he never experienced before. It burns and it cuts him open. Then it stitches him back just to cut him open again.
"Hermione!" He tries screaming her name, but he's sure his voice is barely audible. His teeth gritting. He's shaking. Sweating.
He's incapable of opening his eyes.
And he can't hear a thing anymore.
Someone is holding his hand. No. Not someone.
Hermione. He can tell.
But he's trapped inside himself. All his bones are cracking and readjusting themselves inside him.
She's saying something, pleading, squeezing his hand.
His left hand. The tingle.
He moves his head, telling himself to open his eyes, to squeeze her hand in return.
But nothing happens. Nothing changes. There's only his pain.
His teeth are chattering. He can smell blood.
He can taste blood.
He's burning up.
But there's still a hand holding his. A beacon of light. Of wellness.
Her.
He opens his eyes, gulping.
He feels delirious.
Harry's not at a Hospital. He's inside a room he recognizes. At Grimmauld.
He's weak. His throat is dry. But he hears someone else breathing inside the room.
And there she is, sleeping by his side, all crumpled up on the bed, her left hand holding his.
"Love." His voice is barely there, but she opens her eyes immediately, sobbing.
Hermione leans to him, her hand squeezing his. Her eyes are red from crying. And she's trembling.
"Harry." She touches her forehead on his, sighing. "You need to rest." She sounds tired. Exhausted.
He nods, also tired. He wants to talk with her, wants to ask what's happening, but again, the only thing he's capable of doing is closing his eyes and letting the darkness take him.
This time he doesn't open his eyes. Pain.
He can feel an excruciating pain on his arm. He grunts, making a face.
"It's okay." Hermione says. She's close to him. And he realizes he's hugging her with his left arm. He can feel her weight on the bed. "It will hurt some more, but it'll go away, I promise." She sounds broken.
He mumbles, not quite finding inside himself the strength to open his eyes or talk. But he brings her even closer. Hermione buries her face on the crook of his neck. She's crying.
He's panting. The pain is kind of overwhelming. But then she takes his left hand in hers and the pain subsides. He exhales, relieved. He wants to thank her, but again, he's so weak…
He sleeps.
"I love you. So much." He can hear her voice in the distance.
He's again burning up. Delirious.
But her hand is on his. The pain not so bad.
"I'm so sorry about everything, my love." She keeps saying. He can't quite move. It's like his body weights a ton. "There's no other way. I wish I-" She chokes. "I wanted to say yes, Harry." She's crying. "Please, you have to get better. Please, Harry. Fight this."
He's not sure what she means, but again, he succumbs to the darkness.
The next time he wakes, he feels fine.
And it's odd feeling this good. He frowns, lost.
But then it comes back to him.
The werewolf. The bite. Hermione.
He opens his eyes, his hand seeking her on the bed. She's not there. He's alone inside the room.
Harry notices it's broad daylight. The sun in shining, entering the room through the window. Then he notices the bandage around his right forearm. He touches it with his left hand. It's pretty sensitive and he gulps when he remembers the bite.
He's wearing a white t-shirt and black sweatpants that are not his. And he recognizes the room again. He's at Grimmauld.
With some effort he sits on the bed. There's a jug of water on the nightstand and he drinks it all in almost one go.
His body is sore, but apart from that he feels normal. He doesn't want to think about the fact that he was actually bitten by a werewolf.
Was Greyback a werewolf? How?
Riddle would never assign a werewolf to become an Auror. Not just that but an Auror that took part in the Persecution.
Maybe it happened later… after.
He presses his lips together.
The door opens and Remus strides inside. "Oh. You're awake! Good. How are you feeling?" The man pockets his hands, watching Harry.
"I- what happened?"
"You don't remember?" Remus fetches a chair at the corner to sit in front of Harry.
"I do. Until the bite." He flinches at his own words.
Remus nods. "It was pretty nasty." He sighs. "Hermione brought you."
"Where is she?" He narrows his eyes, two fingers against his temple. She was there, wasn't she? It feels hazy.
"She's at the Ministry, working. You've been out for a week, Harry."
He widens his eyes. "What? A week?"
"Yeah. The bite can be quite infectious." Remus is talking slowly, carefully. "You had a fever. You were delirious most of the time. In and out." He stops talking, assessing Harry. "It'll leave an ugly scar." He points to his forearm. "But I think you don't need to worry now, the worst is over."
Harry chews the insides of his cheeks. "Be honest, Remus. Am I a werewolf now?"
"You should be." Remus says bluntly. "However, whatever it is that you and Hermione share," Harry gulps, apparently now they know about their tingle, "was able to save you from the bite. It took a toll on her, though."
"What do you mean?" His heart beats faster, worried. "Is she hurt-"
"She's fine. But extremely spent. Exhausted. She might need a whole month to feel like herself again." Remus narrows his eyes. "You two are quite a powerful duo, Harry."
He looks down, not sure of what to say. "Why did she bring me here?" He's curious. She risked a lot doing this, exposing them like this. Exposing herself to her father's counselors.
"Well, I thought no one outside this inner circle knew… but Hermione is way smarter than we imagine." Remus sighs. "Thing is… I have a secret, Harry. I'm a werewolf."
Harry opens and closes his mouth, indeed shocked. "How?" He blinks fast.
"I got bit at a very young age. I never knew the identity of the werewolf that did it." Remus shrugs. "Sirius and James were the only ones who I told right from the start. They helped me a lot… at first it was hard dealing with the whole thing. I felt-" He stops, making a face, "like a monster." He gives Harry a pointed look. "It was a battle coming to terms with this. But I accepted and learned how to handle it. Your mother also helped me a lot. With Severus and Petunia's help she used to brew me a potion to downsize the side effects of the transformation and such."
"I- I had no idea, Remus. I'm sorry."
"Nah. It's fine now. There are worse things in life, Harry, believe me." Running a hand through his hair, Remus continues, "Regardless, Hermione knew about it and she immediately brought you, knowing that we would know how to treat you. We used the right spells. Most healers have no idea how to deal with a werewolf bite because the Minister considers it useless knowledge."
"What? Why?"
"Because as he states it, only dirty Half-Bloods or Muggleborns might actually transform from a bite. Never a Pureblood. So, it would never happen." Remus snorts. "An idiot, right?"
"A bloody murderer."
"Exactly. So, we casted the right spells and kept you protected from the infection. It was a long shot. What really saved you was your connection to Hermione. Raw magic. It cleansed you from the bite. Although, not completely."
Harry makes a face. "What do you mean?"
"I think you'll carry some… traits. Like the keen hearing and the sense of smell. Maybe even a bit of strength. Other things that we can't be quite sure." Remus nods to Harry. "Not a bad deal, huh?"
Harry can't help snorting, chuckling a bit. "I guess not. Only when the full moon rises?"
"Yeah, I think so. Look, Harry, if you feel anything else, talk to me, okay? I'm sure you won't transform, but… I remember having fits of murderous rage. It's a predator's thing. Bloodlust. You need to be careful and alert for these signs, okay?"
He nods. "Okay. Sure."
Remus sighs, standing up. "Come, you must be hungry."
Harry feels his stomach complaining the moment Remus mentions it, and without much of a thought, he rises from the bed, a bit weak and dizzy, but fine. They walk downstairs in silence and when they reach the kitchen, Sirius and Eleonora are there.
"Ah! Look who's up!" Sirius says, smiling and coming to give Harry a half hug. "I'm glad you're okay, Harry."
"Me too." He jokes, smiling and sitting on a stool after hugging Eleonora.
"We were insanely worried, Harry." She says, already setting a plate for him with eggs and bread and some pie. "Especially Hermione." Eleonora hints, her tone clear of what she's saying.
Harry looks up at them, his eyes asking questions. And he voices it. "I'm surprised she actually exposed herself like this. It was a risk, bringing me here."
Sirius nods. "Indeed. We were very surprised too. The moment she arrived was madness. She had already sent for Remus to meet here and I mean…" Sirius whistles, "It was bad. I didn't think we would be able to save you, but when you have a Riddle breathing down your neck and forcing you to act…" He raises an eyebrow, "She truly saved your life, Harry. The bite could have killed you. We were glad when we realized it wouldn't, but then the reality of you turning into a werewolf took over us and I have to say… we do need to talk about this whole thing going on between you and Hermione, because when she took your left hand with hers-" He abruptly stops.
"It was… like nothing we've ever seen before." Eleonora whispers, her eyes wide as if she's remembering what happened.
Remus clears his throat. Harry looks down, feeling hot. They're waiting for some kind of explanation from his part.
"I have no idea what this is. It just exists since the very first moment we touched." He says, eating then to occupy his mouth.
"It was like you fused your magic." Remus says. Sirius nods, a hand holding his chin in thought.
"She healed you in a way that… it was pure." Sirius says. "Of course we can't know the real consequences of this, I mean, it astonishes me that she's even standing and working and functioning like a normal person. I bet it drained her completely. It would shock me if she even casted a simple spell for the next month."
Harry purses his lips. "What did she say to you? Did she explain what happened?"
"Well, after the initial craziness, we asked her and she told us everything." Harry widens his eyes. "About you two investigating the Persecution, I mean. And then she begged us not to tell her father or anyone else. Of course we Vowed not to."
Nodding, he asks, "Was the werewolf Greyback?"
"Well, we think so, yes." Remus says. "Hermione gave us the location when you finally fell asleep and we went there to check. The house was empty. No werewolf. No Greyback."
Harry sighs, still eating and being careful with his right arm. "One more lead that's gone."
"Probably." Sirius says.
"What about my position at the Ministry?" Harry asks, "I've been missing work for a week, I'm sure Riddle-"
"I've talked with him." Sirius says. "I said you are ill. Hermione backed me up. Riddle said nothing, only that Hermione is the one who manages her Aurors and if she accepts you missing work for days then there's nothing he can do about it." Harry exhales, irritated that he had been out for a week while she had to deal with all this mess. "But if you're feeling fine, my advice, Harry, is… go back tomorrow."
"Yeah. I will." He finishes eating, thanking Eleonora. Then he fills the silence with a nagging question. "Was she here everyday? Taking care of me?" He doesn't need to say her name.
Eleonora nods. "Yes. She barely left your side. Only when she had to."
He nods, his heart swelling, but hurting at the same time. He faintly remembers her presence there. The weight of her body on the bed or against his own. Her left hand squeezing his. Her smell. Her voice. But not her words.
He makes a face.
"I don't want to cause you any more trouble." He raises a hand at their complaints. "I'm fine to go back home." He stands from the stool and raising his right arm, he asks, "Any precautions about this?"
Remus flinches. "Don't take off the bandage. I mean… not yet. Wait a few more days for it to heal better."
"Okay." He blinks. "What about my things?" He didn't see his wand upstairs or his… coin. It was inside his trousers' pocket.
"Everything you had with you Hermione has it." Sirius says.
Gulping and nodding, he hugs them again, thanking for everything they did. He feels weak, but good enough to apparate to his flat, so, not wanting to talk about what happened right now, he goes.
March 17th, 2006
Ministry of Magic
He takes a deep breath before stepping inside the Atrium. Harry waited for Hermione to show up at his flat yesterday but she didn't. He thought she would go to Grimmauld and, realizing that he was well and back at his place, she would stop by to talk to him.
She didn't.
He cried because of it.
Striding through the Atrium, he tries not thinking about the bandage concealed by his sweater. He still feels a bit weak and dizzy, but totally capable of being here. Of facing certain things and people.
He enters the elevator and meets Ginny. She smiles at him, "Harry! I'm glad you're back." She winks. Of course she knows what happened. "How are you feeling?"
"Good. Almost as new." He gives her a side smile.
"If you feel up to, dinner tonight at my house?"
He nods, the elevator stopping at the Auror's floor. "Sure, I would love to."
They exit together, and to Harry's utter unhappiness, the first thing he sees when he lifts his head is Hermione with Pettigrew. They're walking to the elevators, side by side, talking in hushed tones.
But Hermione completely freezes when she sees him. And Harry also stops on his tracks, pocketing his hands, his heart beating like crazy. He gulps. She looks tired, indeed. That amazing glow she usually carries with her is faint. But she does open a tiny smile to him.
"D'Angelo." Her voice is firm. "Good to see that you've healed well." She purses her lips, her eyes on his. Harry wants to hug her.
Pettigrew snorts. "Yeah, sure, from whatever flu you weren't able of dealing with." He takes Hermione's hand. "We need to go."
And without another glance, Hermione follows Pettigrew into the elevator. Harry actually turns to look at them, but he regrets it immediately when his eyes catch Pettigrew hugging her by the waist, bringing her closer to him.
"Hey, come." Ginny puts a hand on his arm and leads him to his desk.
Ron and Draco are there. No one knows why Hermione and Pettigrew left, but Harry averts his thoughts from this and tries catching up with what's been happening at the Ministry for the past week.
His talk with Hermione will come later. In private.
He hides in the shadows.
Everyone is mostly gone. But he's waiting for Pettigrew to leave. Harry saw the moment they got back. Hermione walked straight to her office without talking with anyone and Pettigrew vanished behind his desk. They didn't seem happy.
Leaning on the wall, he chews the insides of his cheeks. He hopes she won't leave before he gets a chance of talking to her.
He squints when Pettigrew finally stands from his desk, sighing and taking his things, leaving the floor with a final glance at Hermione's door.
Making a face and not happy about it, Harry walks to her office. He stops for a moment before knocking. He's kinda of shaking, nervous. He has no idea what to expect from this.
Closing his eyes, he knocks.
"Come in!" Hermione calls.
He does and she stops mid motion when she sees him. Hermione was fetching a book from her shelf. She gulps. Her hand holding the book in the air.
"Harry." She says in a low voice. "Sit."
He nods, not knowing how to act or what to do, feeling lost but also… found - because he's with her.
Sitting, he waits for her to sit in front of him on an armchair. Hermione sighs, her elbows resting on her thighs while she leans forward. Harry leans to her too, but there's still a wide gap separating them.
"How are you feeling?" She asks, their eyes meeting.
"I'm fine." He says faintly. "You saved me. Again." He states and she snorts, looking down.
"I guess you owe me one." She says. "Although, you saved me first, sending me away like that."
"Hermione." She looks up at him, at his serious tone. "You could have died. What you did-" He stops. "How are you feeling?"
She exhales heavily. "I'm fine. Mostly tired, but fine." She narrows her eyes. "Don't worry about me, just think about getting better." She motions to his arm. "How is it?"
He clicks his tongue. "A bit sensitive, but okay." He makes a face. "I'm still gathering some courage to take the bandage off and look at it."
She chuckles. "It's not that bad. And you'll be able to conceal it when it's fully healed."
He nods. "One more scar."
"One more." She agrees, looking down.
"I waited for you yesterday." He says in a low voice.
"Why?"
He blinks. "Because Eleonora told me you stayed with me the whole time-"
"I was worried." She cuts him, her posture changing. She straightens her back and distances herself from him a bit more. "I felt responsible for what happened, D'Angelo." He clicks his tongue at the surname. "I should have known Greyback was a werewolf. But I didn't. And we went there on a full moon." She shakes her head. "It was a succession of mistakes."
"Was that the only reason why you stayed with me? Because you felt responsible?"
She sets her jaw. "Yes. You're under my orders-"
"We weren't there on a mission as Aurors."
"Doesn't matter." She leans back on the armchair, crossing one leg over the other. "And I'm glad you're fine now."
Harry snorts. "Do you really expect me to believe that was your only reason?"
She doesn't react. Her face a mask of coldness. "I'm telling you my motives, if you want to believe them or not, that's not up to me."
He shakes his head, sighing. "So." He's hurt. "Okay. If that's how you want things to go, I'll respect you, Hermione." He stands from the couch, pocketing his hands. "I want my wand back." He says.
She blinks a few times. "Yeah, sure."
Hermione stands from the chair and walks to her desk. He stays there, watching her. There's a voice screaming inside his head that this is all wrong. It's still too damn hard to accept that they're over. Hard to believe that she's rejecting him this way.
She extends his wand to him and Harry walks to her. He stops very close. His hand closes around hers. Hermione gulps, their eyes locked.
"If you…" He begins, leaning closer, "If you ever find in yourself the will to fight for us, come to me. I'll be there, ready to do it." He says in a whisper.
A tear runs down her cheek. Her other hand comes to his cheek and Harry touches her forehead with his.
Time stands still.
It feels like when they stopped waltzing the Traditional. Nothing else matters.
Hermione breaks the moment, stepping back. "You have to move on, Harry." She says gently.
He holds back his tears, scoffing and taking his wand. He walks fast to the door, his heart breaking again.
"What about your coin?" Hermione asks before he opens the door.
He stops. "I don't want it." He says and then, he's gone.
Draco and Ginny's
"Come on, man, give us a smile."
Harry snorts at Draco's words. He can barely feel any kind of joy to come up with a smile.
He's numb and hurt and incredibly angry.
"I don't understand!" He yells to the ceiling. Ginny and Ron look at him with pity in their eyes. "Why?" He asks them. "She loves me, for fuck's sake!" He yells again.
The others share a look. And to his surprise, it's Luna who says, "Even if she does, Harry, which we all believe is true, Hermione has her reasons and sometimes only love is not enough." She sits by Ron's side, her eyes on Harry, heavy. "Now, stop acting like a child and respect her wish."
He blinks a few times. Draco chuckles. Ginny and Sally widen their eyes. Luna only runs one hand over her already bumpy belly.
Harry grunts, but nods. "Okay, okay." He runs both hands through his hair. "You're right. I-" His anger subsides, leaving only the pain. "It just hurts, you know?"
He never said to them that he was in love with Hermione. But it was obvious. And after what happened with the werewolf, the way Hermione behaved… Ginny said she was completely crazy and out of control. It was also obvious for them that Hermione felt the same.
But now it doesn't matter anymore. It's over.
"But I don't trust Pettigrew. I really don't." He shakes his head. "Dobby told me they used to go to Malfoy Manor and talk about Hermione. He only wants her name, the power it carries. He doesn't love her."
"You can't affirm that, Harry." Ginny says, serious. "Even being sure that you two love each other, there's no way of knowing what Hermione shares with Asmo. They've been together for years. They have a pretty solid relationship." He makes a face at that.
"Look, enough of this." Ron says. "I think you should move on, mate. Really." Harry sets his jaw. He doesn't want to. But he nods, resigned. "And you need to think about other things. Remember I said I wanted to talk with you? That day before the whole thing with the werewolf happened and such?"
Harry nods.
"Oh!" Ginny says, excited. "Harry you'll want to be part of this."
"Of what?"
"So," Ron begins, "We got word of a Muggleborn that showed magic here in London. But the thing is, the boy set his house on fire by accident. His parents…" Ron makes a face, "Religious parents, were too scared and sure that the boy is possessed by a demoniac force and such. They… abandoned him. He's only six."
"Oh, shit." Harry says, his attention on Ron.
"Exactly. And now he's all alone at an orphanage. We've been trying to get in touch with the Muggle parents, but they don't answer us. And even if we do get in touch with them, I'm not totally sure they'll be open to understand this amazing thing their son carries." Ron shrugs.
"We need to save the kid." Harry says. "Take him to Severus."
Draco nods. "So, yeah, but there's a small problem with that, usually we only take kids with their parents' approval, I mean-"
"Fuck it." Harry snaps. "They abandoned their son because they were unable to understand him. Fuck them. Which orphanage?" He asks Ron. Harry can feel his doubt in answering and he rolls his eyes. "Do you want me to keep talking about Hermione or-"
"Bloody hell, fine." Ron cuts him. "I also think we should take the kid, regardless."
And as Ron proceeds to talk about the orphanage and the mission they're trying to put together to save the kid, Harry finds himself calmer and calmer, a new purpose taking form in front of him.
March 19th, 2006
Outside the orphanage
Harry clicks his tongue. Ron is rehearsing a few lines by his side.
"Mate, come on. Doesn't matter what we're going to say. We're disguised. We're wizards. We just need to go inside and take the kid." Harry says in a low voice.
"Ginny's not here yet-"
And just then she appears, crossing the street. Smiling at them. "Sorry I'm a bit late." She says. "So, are we ready?"
"Yeah." Harry says. "Is Draco ready?"
"He is." She nods. "But not happy about me pretending to be your wife." She winks at Harry and he chuckles.
"Come on, let's go, wife." Ginny loops her arm around his and the three walk to the orphanage.
They were able to disguise themselves enough to look like the parents. Ron is there as a social assistant that will vouch for their sanity and such, making it possible for them to reunite with their son.
The orphanage is simple and small. And Harry purses his lips at the sight of all the kids. They're quiet and most act suspicious, giving them side glances. He wonders what would have happened to him if Bianca had decided that she didn't want him as her son.
No one else knows about what they're about to do. Harry suspects that Sirius, Remus and especially Molly won't approve, but it seems ridiculous to leave the kid here, afraid and abandoned. His parents don't want him. And it breaks Harry's heart.
Ron clears his throat when they reach a counter. It takes minutes for someone to greet them. Ginny takes the lead as they agreed. After all, she's the mother and she's worried about her son, eager to see him. Harry purses his lips as he watches the interaction with the Director. It crosses his mind that no one knows how the kid looks like-
"We want to see Victor." Harry says, interrupting, pissed. "He's our son and we have every right-"
"Of course, sir." The Director says. An older woman with hard eyes. "But you have to understand the situation. Victor was brought here because he was being mistreated by you." She says calmly, yet dangerously. Harry immediately likes her. She's protecting the child. "We can oversee a reunion, at best-"
Ron interrupts. Using his fake credentials as a social assistant, he explains the situation and with a fabricated judge's decision, he claims that Harry and Ginny - the parents - went through an evaluation and they're more than ready to properly take care of their son. He goes on, talking about the irresponsibility of separating such an young child from his parents.
Harry shares a look with Ginny. What if it doesn't work? But before the Director can refuse Ron's words, a thin voice calls them from behind.
"Mum? Dad?"
Harry and Ginny turn on their heels. The conversation between the Director and Ron dying down. Harry couldn't tell if they were disguised well enough, but for Victor to recognize them…
"Son!" Ginny throws herself at the little boy. He has brown hair and eyes and a gentle face. But Harry notices he's very thin and short for his age, certainly malnourished.
Victor flinches at the way Ginny hugs him. Harry recognizes the look in his eyes. The boy is scared of his parents. As he should be. Gulping and crouching in front of him, Harry says, "Son, it's alright. We're here to take you home."
The boy widens his eyes, shaking his head and trying to move away. The Director is watching, coming to them already. Ron tries stopping her and Harry bites his lower lip. There's no other way of dealing with this without magic. So, making the decision and not informing the others, he waves his hand in the air.
Everything freezes. The Muggles, the kids, even the air around them. Victor blinks many times.
"Shit, Harry." Ginny says, Ron is also cursing.
"Victor." He says to the boy. "We're not your real parents, but we understand what you're going through. Can you see it? I also have what you have." Harry gestures to their surroundings. The Director has her mouth open, certainly harsh words were about to come out. "We want to help you. Come with us. Please." Harry extends his hand to the kid.
Victor makes an ugly face, some tears falling from his eyes. "I- I don't know." The kid says, his eyes wide now. "What is it? This thing inside me?" His voice is so low Harry leans forward to hear.
"You're a wizard." He says slowly. "You have magic. Like us." He motions to Ginny and Ron. The boy analyzes them, unsure. Harry can feel his grip on the magic he casted slipping away. "Come with us." He says again, standing up.
"We need to go." Ginny says, looking at her watch. "Draco must be ready."
Harry nods. And the three wait for Victor's answer. The boy finally nods, blinking.
Not waiting another second, Harry fetches him from the floor and they exit the orphanage fast. People will certainly be confused, but Ron casted an oblivion spell inside the place. They won't even remember Victor ever went there.
Harry is almost running and the boy clings to him, his thin arms around his neck. They soon reach the alley and Draco is there, waiting.
In a blur they touch the Portkey, all of them being dragged to the Palace.
The Palace
"I cannot believe you went behind our backs!" Molly says, her tone clearly of a mother angry with her children.
It's been a few hours since they arrived and communicated what they did. Harry saw how hesitant they all were, but Petunia helped him take Victor to a nice room where the boy fell asleep, probably nauseated by the Portkey travel.
"What if his parents go looking for him?" Molly keeps saying. They're all sitting at the Great Hall. Harry, Ginny, Draco and Ron have their heads down, listening. Arthur, Sirius, Severus and Petunia are also there. "We don't kidnap children!"
Harry purses his lips. "The boy was scared of his parents! I don't think he-"
"Doesn't matter what you think, Harry." Sirius cuts him. "The facts are: you took a child without his parents' consent. And this can be troublesome in the future."
"How?" Harry snaps. He's angry. "This kid needs love and understanding! Not an orphanage or abusive parents! I highly doubt they'll come looking for him!" He stands from his seat, practically yelling.
Petunia narrows her eyes at him. "Harry is right." She says in a neutral voice. "For now the kid stays and he'll be looked after here. I even bet you would like to pay for his education, right?" She asks Harry and he nods. It would be nice to participate in everything, actually. "Good. It's settled then." Her tone is final. The others sigh, mumbling agreements or disagreements. Harry nods to his aunt in thanks. "But our conversation isn't over, Harry Potter." She says, serious.
Severus whistles and widens his eyes. "So, we'll leave you to it." Very fast he exits the room with the others.
Harry sighs when he's alone with his aunt. "Look, I'm sorry, but the kid-"
"This is not about the kid. I agree with you on that matter." She comes closer to him, her arms crossed. "I want to talk about your attitude, Harry."
He frowns. "My attitude?"
"You're acting on the edge. Angry. Anxious. Is it because of the werewolf bite?"
He shakes his head, "No. No." He grunts. Harry knows what Petunia means. "It's…" He hesitates and she waits. "I-" He doesn't know how to say this, how to explain to his aunt that-
"Is this about Hermione Riddle?" Her tone is a bit higher, her eyes sharper.
Harry gulps. "What do you mean?" His voice is low.
"I heard she saved your life. Also heard that you were investigating your parents' murderers with her. And I can't help wondering why you never mentioned her to me." She clicks her tongue. "Maybe because you're in love with her."
He sighs, looking down. "Are you ashamed of me?" He asks, scared.
Petunia snorts. "Harry." She puts one hand on his arm and he raises his eyes to meet hers. "I would never be ashamed of you. We can't control our hearts, much less the people we fall in love with. I don't care if she's a Riddle. She was practically a baby when everything happened. It was not her doing. And I'm sure she's very different from her father. At least, from what I've heard from the others, she clearly is." Harry purses his lips. "What happened between you two?"
"She… I-" He shakes his head. There are tears running down his face. "She chose Pettigrew."
Petunia grunts. "What a terrible choice." Harry snorts a chuckle.
"Right?" He asks, tilting his head.
Petunia smiles at him. "I know it seems like the end of the world. But… things find a way of happening when they have to, Harry. If it's meant to be, it will be." She encourages him. "Whenever you're feeling angry or lost, come here, okay? Teach the kids. Talk to Dobby. To your cousins. Bring Chiara again. Anything that might make you feel better, yeah?"
He nods, exhaling, a bit relieved. "Thank you. For understanding and-" He chokes, hugging her. "Do you think mum and dad would be… angry with me?" His voice is very thin. Vulnerable.
Petunia pulls away from the hug to look into his eyes. "Never." She says slowly, cupping his face. "They would be the last ones to tell their son not to fight for love." The words strike a chord in him and he closes his eyes, hugging her again.
All he wants is to fight for Hermione. Fight for their love. Like his parents did. The only difference is that… his mother and father both wanted the same thing.
Hermione doesn't want him, though. She made that extremely clear.
And each time he thinks about this, a small piece of him dies.
March 24th, 2006
Harry's flat
He observes the scar on his forearm. It's ugly. Nasty. Big. And finally healed to a point that he can conceal it with a spell.
He does it, fed up with the sight of the scar. He doesn't like thinking about it. It was a terrible night and they lost the lead on Greyback. Harry went back there yesterday. There was nothing inside the house and no one close by. The werewolf fled and Harry still has all his questions.
He only hopes Dolohov has the answers.
Harry sighs, leaning on the couch. He considers going alone to Dolohov's. Right now. But he can't be sure what to expect… if he was alone at Greyback's, he could be dead now.
So, he needs to talk with Hermione about this last visit. Since he didn't retrieve his coin, there's no way of talking with her without being intercepted in a way. Maybe he could show up at her house, but the mere possibility of finding her there with Pettigrew gives him a nasty sensation. And a rage that seems to never go away.
He's trying not to think about her. Sometimes he succeeds, but he mostly fails. He thinks about her voice on his ear. About her smell. About her hugs and kisses. And he longs for the perfect connection they shared both emotionally and physically. He misses their conversations and falling asleep with his arms around her.
"Fuck." He says to the ceiling. "I need to forget her." He mumbles.
Maybe he should go out tonight. Meet someone else. Hook up.
He makes a face at the thought.
He doesn't want anyone else. He wants her.
Groaning, he stands to head to bed. Maybe he can drink a potion to fall asleep-
A Patronus enters his living room. He widens his eyes.
"Harry, can you come over?" It's Hermione.
His heart pounds inside his chest. A rush of excitement goes over his body, from head to toe. His first impulse is to go immediately, but he stops for a second.
What could she possibly want? He can't go back to having sex with no attachments. And he's sure she didn't break up with Pettigrew…
Maybe she wants to talk about Dolohov.
Yes, could be it. Wasn't he thinking this just now?
He pockets his hands, pondering. The last time they talked was on that night inside her office. Hermione is ignoring him at the Ministry and he isn't trying to make a conversation with her.
This invitation is kinda of out of the blue.
Harry frowns. He doesn't understand why he's so hesitant-
Shaking his head he apparates to her house.
Hermione is sitting on the couch and she blinks up at him. She doesn't open a smile. He doesn't either. She gulps and he tilts his head.
"Are you okay?" He asks.
"Yes." She stands up. "I- I want to talk about Dolohov."
Harry sets his jaw, nodding. "Yeah. Okay." He crosses his arms, unsure.
"Sit." She says, heading to the kitchen and fetching a glass of water. "Want some?" She asks.
He nods and sits, Hermione sits in front of him. She takes a sip. "You seem nervous." Harry says, narrowing his eyes. She stills.
"How's your scar?" She abruptly asks.
"Finally gone." He pulls up the sleeve to show her. Hermione purses her lips.
"I'm glad." She says, her tone strange. "So, I was thinking about going to Dolohov's in three days. At night. This time I checked, it won't be a full moon, neither is he a werewolf." She takes another sip.
"Good to know." Harry says, taking his glass and drinking some water. Hermione briefly closes her eyes. "Are you sure you're okay? You seem-"
"Harry." She cuts him. He gives her his attention.
"Yes?"
Hermione wets her lips, her hands going over the fabric of her jeans a few times. He never saw her this nervous.
She lowers her head. "Do you hate me?" She asks bluntly.
He frowns. "Of course not, Hermione." He answers fast, too fast. He takes another sip, anxious. Where is this heading? "Why do you ask? Do you hate me?"
She shakes her head, snorting, acting strangely. "No. I really don't." She looks into his eyes now, and her whole expression and posture change. Her face turns cold and she takes a deep breath, his heart is beating faster, he feels something different and- "Did you kill Lucius Malfoy?"
He purses his lips. But the truth is begging to come out. Bursting out of his lips. He widens his eyes. "Yes!" He chokes, and looks at the glass of water in his hand, releasing it.
Harry stands fast. No. No. No, no, no. Hermione stands too and ties him up with a spell. Then she summons his wand to her hand. He grunts, angry.
She gave him Veritaserum.
Hermione.
Hermione did this to him. She made him confess. She-
"Harry D'Angelo, you're under the Ministry's custody for the murder of Lucius Malfoy." Hermione says, her voice dull, her expression blank. Harry watches in terror while she sends out a Patronus.
He snorts. Shaking his head, completely tied up, unable of performing a wandless spell. There's no escape.
So, he accepts it.
Harry looks down. His heart is- This. She broke everything between them. Everything. He looks at her. The woman he loves.
She's sending him to Azkaban. Sending him to possibly a Dementor's kiss. He can't believe it.
"Wow, you truly fooled me, Hermione." He lets out a nasty laugh. "I gave you my heart and my love and you- You know what? I hate how much of a fool I was in believing in you. I hate how much I love you! I hate that your betrayal is hurting more than probably dying inside that awful prison!" He's crying. She is too now, but her expression is still as cold as before. "After all, you made the right choice. You deserve to be with Pettigrew. You're both cut from the same cloth." He grits his teeth. "And I don't care what it takes, I'll learn how to hate you."
And just then three Aurors arrive. Pettigrew with them. The man is smiling. "D'Angelo. I have no words to describe how much this satisfies me." He puts an arm on Hermione's waist. "Well done, love."
Harry wants to vomit. Really. He also wants to say a lot to this awful man. But he keeps his mouth shut. He's still under some Veritaserum and he needs to be as far away as possible from Pettigrew.
And from Hermione.
He can't even look at her.
The other Aurors come close to him and Harry sees a Portkey with them.
"Take him to the Ministry." Hermione says. "To the cells."
Pettigrew makes a face. "He should be sent directly to Azkaban-"
"He's my prisoner, Asmo." She snaps.
Harry is watching attentively.
She turns to the Aurors. "I'm the one in charge. Anyone else is forbidden of interrogating D'Angelo. Do you understand? He's under my direct orders. Not even the Minister has a say in this. Is that clear?" She's gritting her teeth, her eyes sharp.
They mumble an 'yes'. Harry doesn't recognize these Aurors.
And he looks one last time at Hermione before he's sucked into the Portkey.
Hermione Riddle.
END OF PART THREE
Note: My God. I knew what was going to happen but even so it was hard writing this last scene.
And yes, all the explanations are coming. We'll finally learn a lot about Hermione. Do you remember when I asked if you wanted chapters in her POV? Well, time has come. Hang on tight for next chapter.
(If you wanna know, the title is because of the song Villain - ARCANA, Zack Merci)