A/N: Here is the second chapter! Sorry, it is a bit of a mess. Hope you enjoy regardless. Harry and Hermione are clearly flawed, I am trying to express how lost and broken they feel post-war. This will build up, and eventually break down. Thanks.
Chapter 2 - Shame
Harry shuffled through the Ministry corridors returning to his office, his Auror robes hanging stiffly on his lean frame. Every corner he turned felt haunted by the memory of Hermione's fiery gaze and the taste of her desperate kiss under the moonlight. Shame gnawed at him, a constant dull ache that overshadowed the looming weight of his mission.
He tried to focus on the Auror briefing earlier that morning. Faces blurred together – Kingsley Shacklebolt's stern expression, the hushed whispers about a suspected Dark wizard resurgence, the blurry map outlining his isolated destination. Yet, all Harry could see was Hermione's face lit up in the moonlight, the feeling of her body intertwined with his. It was nothing he had ever felt before.
A choked sob escaped Ron, who was lumbering beside him. Harry glanced over, startled. Ron, usually radiating his usual carefree demeanor, looked like a kicked Kneazle.
"Alright, mate," Harry said cautiously, "what's wrong?"
Ron sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "Luna. We had our first date."
Harry perked up, a flicker of genuine interest cutting through the fog of his guilt. "Luna? How was it?"
"Well," Ron began, his voice thick with emotion, "it wasn't exactly… normal. We went to the Crumple-Horned Snorkack pub, and Luna kept insisting she could see Wrackspurts in the soup."
Harry chuckled. Luna's unique perspective was always a source of amusement, even now. "Did you at least have a good time?"
Ron hesitated. "It was… different. But Luna's Luna, you know? And she actually seemed happy, which is all that matters, I suppose."
They lapsed into silence again, Harry was happy for his best mate, he knew Ron took a fancy for Luna. Harry also knew Ron suspected something about the night at the Burrow. He had noticed Hermione studiously avoiding him ever since.
Just then, the doorknob rattled and the door swung open. Gareth swaggered in, a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face. "There you are, Potter," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "Ginny said I might find you here."
Ron, sensing the shift in atmosphere, mumbled a quick goodbye to Harry and practically bolted out of the office.
Gareth barely acknowledged Ron with a curt nod before turning back to Harry. "Just wanted to wish you luck on your little Auror trip," he drawled, "Though honestly, with all the Dark creatures lurking about, I wouldn't be surprised if Granger ends up needing rescuing before you even get back."
Harry clenched his jaw, the anger simmering just beneath the surface, she worked for an entirely different department. "Don't worry about Hermione," he said through gritted teeth. "She's more than capable of taking care of herself."
Gareth scoffed. "Capable, perhaps. But let's face it, Potter, the girl's a bit… intense. Needs someone to keep her grounded, wouldn't you say?"
The implication hung heavy in the air. Harry fought the urge to lash out. This arrogant prat had no idea about Hermione, about the strength and loyalty that burned bright beneath her fiery exterior. He hesitated internally, loyalty?
"Look, Gareth," Harry said, forcing his voice to remain steady. "I appreciate the concern, now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lot to prepare for."
Gareth's smirk faltered slightly, perhaps sensing the barely contained fury in Harry's voice. He cleared his throat and straightened his robes. "Right, well, best of luck then, Potter. Don't want to keep a hero waiting, do we?"
With a final, condescending nod, Gareth swept out of the office, leaving Harry fuming in his wake. Taking a deep breath, Harry closed his eyes and pictured Hermione's face, her eyes blazing with determination. He wouldn't let Gareth, or anyone else, disrespect her. He had a mission to complete, but when he returned, he had some unfinished business to attend to as well.
Hermione buried her face in her hands. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the papers sprawled out on her desk. Shame gnawed at her. How could she have let things go that far? Engaged to Gareth, a man she'd known for a year, a man who represented stability and security, and yet, it was Harry's touch that ignited a fire within her.
Betraying Gareth felt like a betrayal of everything she thought she wanted. He was kind, ambitious, and everything society deemed a good match. Yet, a nagging emptiness gnawed at her whenever she was with him. He never challenged her, never saw the fire that burned beneath her carefully constructed facade.
Harry, on the other hand... He saw everything. The fear, the doubt, the yearning for something more. Their bond, forged in the crucible of shared battles and near-death experiences, ran deeper than she cared to admit.
With a shaky breath, Hermione straightened, wiping her tears on the back of her hand. The carefully constructed world she'd built, the life she'd meticulously planned, felt like a house of cards teetering on the edge. Ignoring the night shared with Harry felt like the only way to keep it from tumbling down. She never thought herself to be a cheater, but alas, here she was, drowning in her own guilt and confusion.
A knock on the door startled her. Gareth peeked in. "Ready for lunch, love?"
"Just a few more minutes, darling," she forced a smile, the sound brittle in her own ears. Maybe, just maybe, if she buried herself deep enough in work, the memory would fade.
The day had come far too quickly for Harry, Grimmauld Place was bursting with chit chat and red hair.
"Dangerous business?" Luna piped up, her voice light as a feather despite the weight of the question.
Harry's smile faltered slightly. "Ministry's being tight-lipped, but something about a rogue group operating. Dark artifacts, whispers of Inferi... the usual Ministry nightmare fuel."
A collective intake of breath filled the room. Inferi, reanimated corpses fueled by dark magic, were terrifying even for seasoned Aurors.
Mrs. Weasley bustled around Harry, stuffing Pepper Potions and enchanted socks into his travel bag, her face etched with worry. Ron stood beside her, a hand nervously scratching the back of his neck.
"Don't worry, Harry," Ron mumbled, his voice thick with concern. "Six months will fly by. We'll be here, holding down the fort."
Harry offered a reassuring smile, though a shadow of apprehension flickered in his eyes. "Thanks, Ron. I appreciate it."
"Hermione couldn't make it," Ginny chimed in, her voice tight. "Apparently, there's some big thing going on at the Ministry with the House-Elf Initiative. Said she couldn't get out of it."
Harry nodded, though a flicker of disappointment crossed his features. He knew the truth behind her absence, he tried to ignore the pain shooting through his heart.
"Well," Mrs. Weasley declared, clapping her hands together and forcing a smile. "Time to be off then. The Ministry Floo awaits!"
With a flurry of farewell hugs and muttered goodbyes, Harry headed out, leaving Grimmauld Place silent once more. As the fireplace flared green, Harry cast one last glance at the empty armchair where Hermione should have been. His heart felt heavy, the weight of his mission compounded by the turmoil within him.
A biting wind whipped through the snow-laden pines, sending a shiver down Harry's spine despite the heavy dragonhide cloak billowing around him. He stood at the edge of a clearing, gazing out at the imposing peaks of the Carpathian Mountains, their snow-capped summits tinged orange by the setting sun. Six months on a solo mission, that was what he'd expected. A lone Auror, facing down whatever darkness lurked in these ancient forests.
But as Kingsley Shacklebolt materialized beside him with a soft pop, a wry smile playing on his lips, Harry's heart sank.
"Lovely spot, isn't it, Potter?" the Minister for Magic said, his voice gruff yet friendly.
"Indeed, Minister," Harry replied, forcing a smile. "Though a bit chilly for a picnic."
Kingsley chuckled.
"Not exactly a picnic, Harry. More like a…" he gestured towards the towering trees, "…monster hunt."
Harry's stomach lurched. He knew there were whispers of dark rituals in these parts, but a full-blown Inferi uprising? That was Ministry nightmare fuel.
Just then, a figure emerged from the trees, his blonde hair catching the last rays of the dying sun. It couldn't be…
"Malfoy?" Harry blurted, disbelief coloring his voice.
Draco Malfoy, his face a mask of stoicism, adjusted his fur-lined cloak.
"Potter," he drawled, his voice as cold as the mountain air. "Fancy meeting you here."
The animosity crackled between them, thick enough to cut with a butter knife. Ten years had passed since the Battle of Hogwarts, but the old scars ran deep.
Kingsley sighed.
"Alright, boys, enough with the pleasantries. You two are on this mission together."
Harry's jaw clenched tight. "Together? But Minister—"
"No buts, Potter," Kingsley interrupted, his voice firm. "Malfoy here has experience with Eastern European dark magic rituals, courtesy of his less-than-savory family connections. Besides, you two need all the help you can get against an Inferi army."
Harry glared at Draco, who met his gaze with a flicker of defiance.
"Fine," Harry muttered through gritted teeth. "But don't expect me to babysit you, Malfoy."
Draco smirked. "Likewise, Potter."
Kingsley threw his hands up in exasperation. "Wonderful. Just wonderful. Now, let's get down to business."
He conjured a shimmering blue shield around a clearing, revealing a luxurious, magically-maintained tent inside. It was surprisingly well-appointed, with a crackling fireplace and two plush armchairs.
"Your home for the next six months, gentlemen," Kingsley said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "The Ministry doesn't exactly have budget rooms in the Carpathian wilderness."
Harry sank into an armchair, the fire's warmth a welcome contrast to the biting wind outside. He was no stranger to danger, but a mission of this scale, partnered with his archnemesis…If only he could tell Ron and Hermione about these new events. His mind slipped as he thought back to that night with Hermione.
He closed his eyes, the image flashing before him. Hermione's eyes, usually so bright with curiosity, held a spark of uncertainty. Then, a laugh, a sound so unlike her usual confident chuckle. It was an awkward, breathless laugh, filled with nervous energy, and it sent a thrill coursing through him. Fingers trailed in new places as the world around them faded away.
"Lost in memories, Potter?" Draco's voice cut through the silence, laced with a hint of amusement, or was it something else?
Harry forced himself back to the present, shoving the memory aside for now. He couldn't afford distractions, not now.
A/N: Please leave a review or suggestions. How would you like to see this story play out?