The next three and a half days were blessedly uneventful.
Harry woke up, and John had been right… He had a headache of truly epic proportions. It was expected, but still unpleasant. Nobody ever told him that having his head split open would tickle.
Once Harry's immediate recovery was through and he was stable on Tuesday morning, they moved him back to his original room. They had been able to magically heal his incision, but the bones affected by the implantation would need time to heal properly. They were close enough to the device that magic was not very effective on them.
Hermione didn't leave his side for more than an hour in total for those three days, aside from a few times during which Erica stopped by to talk with Harry. During those same times, Milly would take Hermione for a walk around the floor and they had some good chats. With Harry and Hermione both out of immediate jeopardy, they were both starting tofeelmore of the war and ultimate battle. The true gravity of their last year and the last week was starting to really hit them. The world was changing, and the two of them were instrumental in the events that triggered it. Each of them having a healer to help them process things was invaluable.
Tuesday night and Wednesday saw a rotation of welcome visitors, including a few more Weasleys. Molly hugged them both and all but demanded that they tell her if they needed anything at all, with assurances she would do everything in her power to make sure they were well tended to. Something about a warm and loving, motherly hug had made both of them emotional.
When Ginny came up to visit, both Harry and Hermione had privately worried it might be awkward given the brief time she had dated Harry in 6th year. Fortunately for all three of them, that wasn't really the case. Ginny seemed relieved to see the both of them doing well enough after the battle. Her arm was still out of sorts, but was mending well. She didn't stay long, but it was a pleasant visit. Harry and Hermione both suspected Ginny was indeed supportive of them, though it might take her heart a while longer to align with her head on the matter of Harry being with someone else.
Early Wednesday, Neville made an appearance and nearly suffocated Hermione with a hug. He had been right next to her when she caught her curse and had been horrified for her. Harry, for his part, once more apologized for what they'd put Nev through, but the young man, just like when Harry had first awakened in the hospital, didn't want to hear any of it. He was simply thrilled by the fact that they had both survived and had a shot at recovery from where they were. He shared news that Xeno and Luna were staying with him at his grandmother's estate while the Lovegood's home was being renovated after the explosion that ended up with Harry, Hermione, and Ron at Malfoy Manor.
Wednesday afternoon, Shack came by to visit the both of them. He had a set of keys for Harry. They were charmed so that while Harry possessed them, any door in Grimmauld would open for him, but if he handed them to anyone else, they would function like regular keys. Something Harry hadn't thought about was the idea of living in an old magical home with no magic of his own. So many of their features and functions relied on the magic of the owner to operate.
The new Minister for Magic also talked with them briefly about the media storm that had been engulfing their world since the battle. Practically the entirety of magical Britain was clamoring for a glimpse of or an interview with Harry. The feeding frenzy in the lobby of St. Mungo's had indeed died down a bit, as they'd gone nearly a week with no actual news there. The Prophet, Wizarding Daily News, The Archive, and the Chronicler were all hounding the ministry for updates or details regarding the disposition of wizarding Britain's hero, and Shack had been steadfastly stonewalling them.
Harry had known it was coming. People were too stubborn to let him just live his life, and there wasn't much to be done about that. He could see it in Shack's eyes. There was something Shack wanted to ask of him, but he already knew the answer, so he would not ask it. Thinking of all the lengths Shack had gone to in order to help Harry, and especially in order to help Hermione, Harry came to a decision.
"Shack?" Harry asked as their conversation lulled.
"Yes Harry?" The Minister replied.
"I'm sorry if my lack of appetite for dealing with the press is putting you in a hard spot."
Shack signed deeply. "I understand it Harry, you owe them nothing, and they've been little but unkind to you over the years. I can handle a bit of heat from the press. It comes with the territory."
Harry shot Hermione an inquiring look, and she nodded.
"There's one publication that I think I could offer an exclusive to. One that's often shared the truth of things. There's a part of me that would like to get our version of events out there once and for all, before speculation takes off any further than it already has."
Shack looked surprised at this news.
Hermione chimed in next. "But we would appreciate it greatly if we could get out of here without wading through a horde of reporters in the lobby… And Harry can't apparate in his condition, even side along. Morris actually recommended against the floo network for at least the next week or two as well. Do you have any ideas about that?"
"Are you both sure? I fully understand your avoidance. You've both given plenty, but the press is the press. I will not ask you to make any statements."
Harry replied. He and Hermione were very much in sync on this issue. "Frustrating though it is, it is not unreasonable. But we'll do it our way. You can tell them we are doing well, and request they respect our privacy. I'll make us arrangements for that interview, and I'd imagine a special publication will be released within a few days after we get that in order."
"I can see that you make it to Grimmauld undetected. The Fidelius there is in shambles, but perhaps we can make arrangements to have it renewed."
"Has the cleanup I asked about the other day been dealt with?"
"It's done, as you requested. And then some."
"Thank you so much, Shack. I really appreciate it. If that's the case, I will handle getting the Fidelius taken care of."
"Very well, Harry. I'm glad to see you both moving forward after all you've been through. I know it has been a trying time, to say the least. When the time comes for your exit, my team will take care of you both."
—X—X—X—
Thursday, just after noon, Harry and Hermione found themselves in the back seat of a car, of all places.
They'd been released from the hospital after Harry got one final checkup from Morris and his trainee, Denise, even made another appearance. After only a few days with his magic subdued, the gaping hole in him had shrunk considerably, and it was now covered with a magical bandage that mimicked his own flesh quite well. He could move around much more comfortably, though he still had to take care for certain motions. They'd even managed to regrow much of his hair, which had been shaved for surgery.
They'd also gotten quite an excellent send off from Erica and Milly. Milly unfortunately had to get back home to the states now that Harry was being discharged, but promised to stay in touch and make another trip out to visit and check up on Hermione's progress. Knowing they had a bit of travel in their future, and on the muggle side of the street, no less, the healers presented them each with a fine leather-bound notebook. The notebooks would allow them to communicate with their healers as needed by writing, no matter where they were.
Hands joined across the center of the rear set of a town car, the pair were quiet, staring out their respective windows. There were buds on the trees and the sky was clear and pale blue. It seemed the cold rains of early spring, which had held on longer than typical this year, were finally receding.
Though they weren't discussing it, the two were both allowing the same realization to slowly wash over them, that they were now free to do whatever they wanted to do. For the first time in a year, they weren't worried about their next meal, or snatchers springing out of the darkness. They had a sense of security for the first time in what seemed like forever. They were free to do whatever they pleased, whenever they pleased, and with a few practical exceptions, wherever they pleased.
Turning down a familiar street, Harry recognized their destination. He was a bit surprised to see that the curb in front of the door to 12 Grimmauld Place was free of any parked cars. This was typically a busy block, and every time he'd been there previously, he'd seen cars parked bumper to bumper along the side of the road.
The car pulled smoothly to a stop right in from of the door, and they disembarked from the car when the driver opened Hermione's door on the curb side of the car. Another car stopped right behind theirs and a man got out and nodded to the driver, before the car he arrived in drove away and he made his way up the stairs to the porch and the door. He turned and waited casually for Harry and Hermione to get to him. He was wearing light wash denim jeans and a black t-shirt under an open blue track jacket with the Chelsea FC logo on it.
It was lost on neither Harry nor Hermione that the man was very intentionally dressed to blend in with a crowd, just about anywhere in London.
"Good afternoon Mister Potter, Miss Granger." The man spoke very clearly and with a degree of authority not just anyone could muster casually. "My name is Charles Gray. I am the head of your security detail. I need just a few minutes of your time and then, if everything goes well, you won't be seeing much of me."
Harry and Hermione shared a glance, and nodded at the same time.
"Of course. Good to meet you, Charles. Let's go inside." Harry shook his hand then stepped up to the door and reached for the keys in his pocket, before remembering he shouldn't need to use them. He tried the door and it opened at his touch.
As the door swung open, both Harry and Hermione stopped in their tracks. The shabby, dreary old home was entirely transformed. The floors were polished and clean, the walls were freshly painted and looking crisp, and the lighting was no longer dreary.
"This is barely recognizable…" Hermione said as she stepped into the entry and looked into the sitting room.
"You've got that right." Was all Harry could manage to say.
They entered and led Charles through the dining room and to the den just off the deck in the back of the house. The man walked, simply put, like he knew how to handle himself.
There was a brilliant polished walnut bar in the corner of the den, looking to be fully stocked with new bottles of anything they could imagine. The bay window was crystal clear, and showed them a modest yard complete with a privacy fence and a few mature trees, among which were strewn a few chairs with comfortable looking cushions. Harry also noted both a grill for cooking and a circular stone fire pit.
"I don't think I've ever looked out there before, Hermione."
"I'm not sure this window wasn't entirely opaque last time I was here, Harry."
Charles chimed in, "It is indeed a beautiful home, but if you wouldn't mind, I do have some important things to cover before I leave you to discover the rest of it."
"Right, right… Sorry. Can I offer you something to drink? It seems we're well equipped in that area."
"I really shouldn't be drinking, on duty and all." Charles replied immediately. His manner of speaking was curt, but not rude. There was something that really stood out about the way he held himself.
"Tea then?" Hermione asked, as she made her way over to the small counter.
Charles finally understood that it was no use denying their hospitality. He nodded, replying "Thank you, ma'am."
"I'd tell you not to call me ma'am, but I imagine that would be futile."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Fine then, at least make yourself comfortable, take a seat." Hermione shot back.
Charles sat himself at one end of an overstuffed leather couch, and seemed to relax ever so slightly as Hermione got the tea going.
"So," Harry started, "What do we all need to know about the house and our new uh, 'security detail' as you called it?"
"Well sir, there ar-"
"You can call me Harry."
"Yes, sir. There are eight of us in total, and there are always four on duty, working in 12 hour shifts."
"That seems rather invasive, doesn't it?" Hermione added.
"We will keep our distance and focus more on perimeter security. If you see us after today and didn't call for us, assume there's trouble afoot and act accordingly."
"Should we be expecting any 'trouble afoot'?" Harry asked slowly.
"No sir, I don't imagine so. The Auror Office has been quite busy in the wake of the events of last weekend. At the end of the battle, the Auror Office apprehended many of Voldemort's remaining loyalists. Witness accounts identified many who left beforehand, and the Auror Office has either already apprehended or is actively tracking them."
"Then why the impressive efforts for our security?" Hermione asked, as she was pouring tea for the three of them.
"Call it an overabundance of caution, perhaps? Although none of the inner circle remains, there are some minor concerns about attempts at retaliation from the few remaining free. We do not think it's likely, but we prefer to be prepared rather than surprised in case something happens."
"That does seem the better option." Harry offered as he took a cup from Hermione and she sat down next to him.
"I was hoping you'd agree." Charles smiled, sipping his hot tea and reaching into the pocket of his track jacket. "There's one of these for each of you. Think of them as a panic button." He produced two small rings, each with a translucent blue stone set into it.
"If anything happens you don't like, if you see something that doesn't sit well with you, or you suspect either of you are in any sort of danger, press firmly on the stone for a few seconds. It will let me and my team know where you are, and we will close in on you quickly, and ready for a fight.
"If you just need to touch base, or get a message out to someone, tap the stone five times in quick succession. That will send us a non-emergency beacon, and we'll knock on your front door or something instead of apparating with wands at the ready. "
"Thank you, was there anything else?" Harry asked.
"Just the one thing." Charles reached into his other pocket and produced a pair of large envelopes, handing one to each of them. The minister made arrangements for you to get these. I have no idea what's in them."
"No idea at all?" Hermione asked.
"None… And I really should be going. Thank you for the tea."
The pair stood to see Charles off. Charles, with a slight bow that was little more than a deep nod, walked from the den toward the front entry way.
Almost instinctively, they walked to each other and collided in a tight embrace.
They were alone. For the first time since the battle, since the hunt, since setting off on their lonely mission. They were alone, whole, and alive.
As her arms encircled him he buried his face in her wild mane of curls, and her forehead rested in the crook of his where she belongshe thought to himself.
She was warm and comforting. Her presence, her closeness, relaxed him when he thought just a few short days ago he may never feel relaxed again… She soothed him in a way he'd never felt before.
As they held each other close in that first, beautiful moment, he smiled as a thought that had pained him just under a week ago struck him once more. She fit so very perfectly under his chin with her head on his shoulder.
She felt likehome.
Not the troubled sort of home he'd been accustomed to with the Dursley's, no. A real home. She felt what he imagined a real home should be like. Peace and an amorphous feeling of wholeness. She was a physical extension of the comforting warmth he'd felt in his chest the night he died. The feeling that pulled him from the darkness, radiating peace even while he was unsure of what the future held.
Happy tears filled his eyes for what might have been the first time in years, and he knew in that moment he wanted this feeling, the two of them together, never to stop.
—X—X—X—
A few quiet minutes passed after the front door closed behind Charles, and they finished their tea while staring out the large window intotheiryard.
"Are you doing okay, Harry? You look… distant. What's on your mind?" Hermione scooted over a bit more to be right next to him and rested her head on his shoulder.
"I… think it's all just sort of hitting me now, and I don't really know if I can believe it." Harry admitted in a measured tone.
"Bit of a departure from a week or a month ago, isn't it?"
"You can say that again… It's just… I don't know."
"Still can't shake the feeling we're on the run?" She asked, nudging him playfully.
"That, but also it's just… My entire life. Well, since I learned about my family anyway, I've wondered 'why me?' what makes me so special or different, why was I ever 'the chosen one'."
"I know you have… I'm just so glad you're here, that we made it." Hermione wrapped her arm around his back and held him close.
"I know. I just can't stop thinking about it, you know? Why Tonks and Colin and Hagrid, and so many others, and not me instead?"
He felt Hermione go still.
"Why do I get to live, when they don't? Colin had a brother, Hagrid had the whole bloody castle, Tonks… She had Remus and T-Teddy waiting for her, not even a month old. They all had so much in their lives. Loving families, hosts of people that cared for them. Hell, Hagrid never made an enemy in his life. Meanwhile, I've got nothing, no family, and I get to live? It almost doesn't seem fair."
"When has anything in life ever been fair, Harry?" Hermione asked, sniffling and wiping her eyes before putting her left hand on his cheek to turn his head toward her. "Besides, you're wrong about having nothing."
"How's that?" Harry asked, exhausted by the thoughts racing through his head.
Hermione grabbed the back of the couch with her right hand, and in a quick motion, swung her leg over and shifted around so she was straddling his lap, staring into his piercing green eyes with her forearms on his shoulders. She had a mischievous look in her eye that Harry immediately knew he wanted to see more of.
She leaned in slowly and gently kissed his still aching forehead, then the tip of his nose before barely whispering. "You've got me."
She pressed her entire body against his and kissed him. She cautiously pressed her entire body against his, considering his ongoing recovery and unsure if her boldness would be well-received in that moment. Her uncertainty was short-lived though, as he responded almost desperately, hands roaming her until one found its way to the back of her neck, and the other was gently caressing her hip.
She couldn't help the soft moan that escaped her lips as their kiss deepened along with the relief it provided both of them.
A while later, after what Harry immediately hoped would be the first of an incredibly large number of snogging sessions with Hermione, the two of them took the opportunity to fully explore the house his godfather had called a home as a young boy.
Someone had thoroughly cleaned and magically restored the house over the last few days, making it seem bigger. Perhaps it was the fact that the windows were allowing more light into the space.
The main floor held a formal dining room, a fancy sitting room with an enormous fireplace, and two rooms in back for entertaining, one of which was the den they'd spoken to Charles in.
On the second floor, they were surprised to find that someone had restored one of the old bedrooms into a billiard room, complete with another small bar off to the side and comfortable seating. Coincidentally, the second floor was likely to be Hermione's favorite, as the Black family library and an attached study made up the front of the floor, with large windows facing the street.
Even after nearly 8 years of exposure, neither Hermione nor Harry ever failed to be stunned by magic and its application to everyday things in the world. The hallways in the house were narrow, but not overly so. The bedroom doors lining the hall, however, were lined up right next to each other, edge to edge. Looking at the hall, you'd think it was a row of small closets. However, each one opened to a relatively large and well-appointed bedroom. The entire house had charm work spun through it, just like the tent they'd spent the previous winter in. Nearly every room was bigger than it seemed there was physical space for.
The third floor was unchanged from how they remembered it the previous times they'd been there, except for a door neither of them remembered that opened to a cozy game room. On one side of the cozy game room, there was a fancy card table, while on the other side, a polished wood table with a beautiful chess set proudly displayed on it waited for its next match. The set was all polished marble, and the black spaces on the board each had a constellation inlaid on them in silver, with polished gems inset to the board where major stars were. The pawns were each topped by a polished sphere that looked like a planet, while the rest of the pieces were quite standard. It did not appear to be a standard magical chess set.
Hermione noticed Harry admiring the chess set.
"Do you think he played on this as a boy?" Harry asked with wonderment.
"I imagine he did Harry, look." She stood next to him and laced their fingers together, then pointed to a knight. "It's not a horse, it's a dog." She picked the piece up and handed it to Harry.
"So it is…" Harry replied, surprised at the detail carved into the piece. He went to place it back on the board and stopped. "Oh, that's appropriate." He gave a wan smile and pulled her over to look at the black space she'd taken the piece from.
"Canis Major." She recognized the constellation inlaid to the square immediately. Their first 5 years at Hogwarts, they'd spent one night a week looking through telescopes together and studying star charts.
Harry pointed to a pale blue gem in the constellation. "And look… Sirius."
She squeezed his hand. She'd never been much for chess, but could see how much the board meant to him. "Maybe while we're here, you can try and teach me a thing or two about playing."
"I'd enjoy that." Harry admitted readily, "Though we might see if we can find a book. I-" he stopped himself before mentioning Ron. She'd told him about the conversation they'd had while he'd been in surgery. "I certainly could be better at it, but I can definitely show you enough to get us started."
She smiled at him. "Do you think you're ready to go upstairs?" The top floor was next, and it was home to Sirius' room.
"Maybe we save that for later. I'm a bit hungry, aren't you?"
"I am, actually." She hadn't realized it until he'd asked, but she was hungry. They'd spent at least a couple hours going through each room.
"Brilliant." Harry smiled. "I'll go down to the kitchen and see what we're working with, and you can pick a room for yourself…" He hesitated, not wanting to be overly forward and imply they should share a room. "I'll uh, I'll take that one in the corner, next to the room with the billiard table."
"Do you need any help with dinner?"
"No, I'll be alright. You just settle in, and we'll eat in that den, yeah?"
She turned her attention back to the intricate chess board as he left the room.
—X—X—X—
Harry departed and Hermione found herself alone in the game room.
She made her way down one floor and took the bedroom right next to the one Harry had claimed. The room had a small en suite bathroom, a closet, dresser, and large four post bed of dark stained wood with pitch black curtains, and a handsome roll top writing desk.
She took her expanded bag off of her shoulder and began extracting whatever clothes and toiletries and such she'd kept in there for the last year. It didn't take more than a few minutes. She'd packed only the essentials and enough clothes that she could get by without washing something every other night.
She also found Harry's backpack and a few of his effects. Taking only a few moments, she placed them neatly on his bed in the room next to hers before she made her way downstairs.
When she got to the main floor, the sounds of Harry cooking in the basement trailed up the stairs and put a smile on her face. She wasn't sure if he quiteenjoyedcooking, but he was quite good at it. Before they'd run almost entirely out of supplies, his nights on dinner duty were easily the best eating they'd done while on their mission.
She remembered the envelopes Charles left for them and went to retrieve hers out of the den. It was a beautiful day outside, but the sun would set soon. Though she wanted to enjoy the yard a bit, she'd need proper light to go through the envelope, so she made her way back to her room.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Harry had set a large pot to boil, and was still working on finding his way around a new cabinets.
Once back in her room, Hermione sat cross-legged on her bed, and produced a small stack of papers from the envelope.
25/12/1997
To the attention of Hermione Jean GRANGER.
WHEREAS, the Legal and Estate Planning division of Gringott's bank has received an update to a living will entrusted to our management.
THEREFORE, IN ACCORDANCE with the Rules and Regulations for Inheritance and Estate Planning, you are hereby informed that as of this day, the twenty-fifth of December of the year nineteen hundred and ninety-seven, that you have been officially designated as the next heir, executor, and trustee to the estate of House Potter, as per the newly updated last will and testament of one Harry James Potter, born the 31stday of July of the year nineteen hundred and eighty. If anything happens to the current heir, your duties and privileges as the heir, executor, and trustee to the estate of House Potter will partially take effect immediately, with full effect beginning after the transference of the estate is completed. Should such a time come, further details will be provided.
This designation also confers upon you further rights and responsibilities, asserted in the attached documentation.
Sincerely,
Jastor, Account Manager, Potter Estate
Gringott's Bank
Diagon Alley
London
So it was quite official… She hadn't received the message via post because the protections they used on the run included anti-scrying and unplottable charms to make them hard to find. The owls couldn't get to them, and that was that.
There were a few more documents in the envelope. At least this one didn't surprise her.
02/05/1998
To the attention of Hermione Jean GRANGER.
WHEREAS Gringott's and the Ministry of Magic in Great Britain have received positive confirmation as to the regrettable death of one Harry James Potter.
THEREFORE, IN ACCORDANCE with the Rules and Regulations for Inheritance and Estate Planning, you are hereby informed that as of this day, the second of May of the year nineteen hundred and ninety-eight, that you are now legally, magically, the sole heir, executor and trustee of the estate of Harry James Potter, last of the Potter line, and heir to the estates of House Potter and House Black in their entirety.
Miss Granger, please accept our sincerest condolences on the loss of Mister Potter.
This packet includes a summary of the holdings of the combined estates of Potter and Black (henceforth referred to as 'The Estate'). Be advised, in accordance with our standard procedures for estates of this magnitude, we shall immediately transfer five percent of the holdings to an escrow account. We will use these funds to settle any outstanding debts that need to be balanced before settling the estate. We will keep the funds in escrow until one year from the date of this post. At that time, we will return any remaining funds to The Estate.
The Estate includes but is not limited to: post-reconciliation contents of any vaults belonging to The Estate, deeds to all Potter and Black properties, including the cottage in Godric's Hollow, the villa in Tuscany, the manor house in Lancashire, the townhome in central London, as well as other deeds outlined in Appendix A. Further, stock interests, withheld rights and royalties to Sleekeazy's Hair Potion and other investments as detailed in Appendix B.
Appendix C is the latest reconciliation statement and audit results on all vaults associated with The Estate. Per the latest instruction we have on file, submitted by one James Fleamont Potter, on October the fourteenth of the year nineteen hundred and eighty, Gringott's Bank has been managing the Potter portfolio with a conservative risk profile, prioritizing slow but steady, long-term gains over more volatile attempts to game the markets. The cash portfolio has performed well over the last decade, showing returns of 6.875%, or approximately 87.3 million Galleons during the period.
As the heir to The Estate, we encourage you to visit our London branch at your earliest convenience so that we can fully execute the transfer of ownership. At that time, we can review and discuss your holdings and your intents with them at length.
In the meantime, as we do not show a record of you having a vault of your own with us, included with this mailing is a coin purse magically bound to a discretionary account set up in your name in accordance with the latest version of the will of Mister Harry James Potter. For your convenience, also included, is a debit card that will function at any muggle establishment or ATM. This discretionary account holds approximately 6.3 million galleons, or one half of one percent of cash funds available to The Estate as of the mailing of this letter.
Again, I extend my personal condolences and that of the entire staff of Gringott's, and look forward to meeting with you soon to discuss your financial future.
Warm regards,
Jastor, Account Manager, Black, Granger, and Potter estates
Gringott's Bank
Diagon Alley
London
Stunned wasn't the right word.
She'd known his family was pretty wealthy. Her idea of it came into somewhat better focus when they'd spoken about the letter he sent on Christmas Eve.
Or so she'd thought…
Her ears rang as the weight of what Harry'd done for her sank in. That he had been so broken and yet had so effectively hidden it from her still frightened her. That fear was, however, tempered by his survival of the last battle, his promise to talk more, and that he was just downstairs fixing them dinner.
There was one last piece of mail in the envelope, and her heart skipped a beat as she drew it out.
The neatly folded letter had an inscription on the outside, written in Harry's hand, that read "To be opened only by Hermione Granger."
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, unfolding the note as she did.
Hermione.
I know you'd kick my arse if you knew I was writing this, but you're finally sleeping in the sitting area right now, so I'm gonna risk it.
If you're reading this, then it likely means I didn't make it through the war. Right at the start, I'm sorry for that.
Ron left us two nights ago.
I know it was at least in part the horcrux getting to him. I also know it wasn'tjustthe horcrux. The darkness got to him, and I can'tfullyblame him. I can feel it following me around, too. Sometimes I'm almost compelled to give into it, but then, invariably, I see you, or you come and share some bit of information you've found. I can't thank you enough for that.
I suspect that someday soon I might need to leave this world without getting the chance to give you a proper goodbye. I want you to know that you've been anamazingfriend, and it means more than I can say or write that you stayed with me. I don't know what will happen between now and that time, but what I do know, without a doubt, is that I'll always be able to count on you. Ever since you set Snape on fire for me first year, I knew you were someone I could rely on… And I have relied on you for so much.
I want nothing more than to tell you so many things… To look you in the eyes and tell you everything, but I fear that will only lead us both to more heartache in the long run, so I'm putting… Let's just say 'most of it', into this letter instead.
And I'll say it here because it needs saying. You have never once let me down. Even if I'm lying cold in the ground as you read this, know that none of what has happened to me is your fault. It couldn't possibly be, and to think it was is madness. I simply can't imagine any scenario in which you didn't do your best by me.
I don't regret many things, but one of them is that I haven't had the opportunity to be for you anything near what you've been to me over the years.
It sucks, you know? To have so many things left unsaid but not realize it until the worst possible time? I wish so many things would have gone differently, but none of them are you. You are perfect, and have been everything I needed you to be. I cannot thank you enough, though the other note I wrote last night will be a good start. You'll know what I mean by that by the time you ever read this.
As I'm sitting here, thinking of you, I've just realized all of my happiest memories are with you. Everything I've been through, the weight of loss I've felt over the years, and I know you have felt that too… It all feels a bit lighter with you around, and I've never found a way to thank you for that. Not properly anyways.
I think I should probably end this here before I say too much, but just… Thank you. Sincerely, Hermione. Thank you.
Thank you for everything you have done, for everything you have given me, and for everything you are.
With all my love,
-Harry
She took a moment to compose herself, a few tears already drying on the page. She knew exactly what this was.
It was a love letter, without being a love letter. He'd thought telling her, being open with her, would only bring her heartache.
And yet, at the eleventh hour, he had anyway.
Finding normalcy after all they'd been through was going to take time. Milly had said so, and she was right. She just needed to focus on where she is and where she was going.
Footsteps on the staircase down the hall shook her from her contemplation, but her heart was still pounding hard in her chest.
"Hermione!" Harry's excited voice called from the other end of the floor. The footsteps got closer to her open door. "I grilled us some chicken and made a quick carbonara, you do like carbonara right? The kitchen and the yard are amazing. I've got us set up outside on the- What's wrong, Hermione? You look like you've been crying."
He entered her room and saw her surrounded by papers, and Hermione watched as the proverbial wind left his sails.
"I got some things from Gringott's, Harry." Hermione spoke quietly, and carefully. "And I read your letter from Christmas."
"Oh… I didn't go through mine yet. Was there something in there you didn't like?" He walked to her, standing right next to her as she sat on the edge of the bed.
"Something in there I didn't- Harry, I didn't much care for any of it!" Her voice was angry, but she threw an arm around him and squeezed him tightly, her head pressing into his chest and almost knocking the wind out of him.
For his part, Harry was thoroughly confused. An 'angry hug' was a new paradigm for him, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Plus, from what he remembered of the letter he'd penned back in December, there certainly wasn't anything he'd expect to anger her in there.
"What was in there?" He asked, bewildered. "What did I do? How can I help?" All he'd wanted was for her to be taken care of and to not want for anything.
"Correspondence from Gringott's, Harry. All the official mailings they sent in December, and then again… L-last weekend."
"Oh no… I'm sorry, Hermione, but I'm here. Right here with you. I came back, and I'm not leaving again."
"AND THAT BLOODY LETTER!" She yelled and sobbed at the same time, somehow tightening her grip on him while pounding her palm on his chest.
"My letter?" Harry asked, a bit hurt at her reaction to it. "I meant that to-"
"Oh it'squite clearwhat you meant in that letter, Harry." She wiped her nose on the apron he'd put on over his clothes while he was cooking. "Where'd you bloody learn to write like that? That letter was beautiful, and perfect, and…" she trailed off.
"And what?" he asked, relieved that she didn't hate it and content simply to comfort her with his mere existence, if that's what she needed just then. He kissed the top of her head.
"And if things had gone-" she had to stifle another sob. "Just a bit differently last weekend, and you weren't h-here with me… That letter would have been utterly devastating, Harry. You loved me then. Why couldn't you justsay it?"
"I said in the letter… I thought it would hurt more when-"
"Then explain Saturday morning! What changed? Why take me aside then, ten minutes before…? Walking away…"
"Because at that moment…" He paused, trying to find the right words. "I wasn't strong enough, Hermione." His tone was somber and resigned.
That got through to her. She looked up at him with tears glistening like diamonds in her eyes and waited for him to continue.
"Before then… It was all just abstract, you know? 'This terrible thing is probably going to happen sometime.' and all… But just then, when I left Dumbledore's office, I knew it was happening, for real. I was going to die that night. I'd never see you or Ron again. I'd never sit on that old couch in the common room, next to you, and stare into a fire again, and there was nothing to be done about it. And I couldn't have any regrets. I was so conflicted, Hermione. Those few moments that I got to that room before you, I was worried saying anything was just being cruel at that point. Maybe it was a moment of selfishness on my part."
"Harry, " she started softly.
He continued, "But if there was even the smallest chance that you felt the same about me, I couldn't leave you behind to always wonder what could have been or if I had ever felt the same. I needed you to have that closure so you could move on from me.
"I'd just seen first hand what not having closure can do to a person. I saw what one-sided love did to Snape, how it slowly broke him, and even corrupted him over the years. I didn't want that for you, I couldn't risk it. You're too important to me… You have been for a very long time."
She shifted a bit and threw her other arm around him, and he let out a small chuckle, gently shifting her arm down a bit and off of the bandage hidden under his shirt.
"Sorry." She sniffled into his side.
"It's okay, it didn't hurt. Areyoualright?" He ran his fingers over her temple and down her hair a few times.
"I… I'm still struggling a bit, if I'm honest." She admitted after a moment. "I still see… Sometimes my mind replays parts of that night, or the last week, and I don't know how to get it to stop."
"Yeah… I know this doesn't help you at all, but that happens to me, too."
"This is gonna take a while, isn't it?"
"I think so… But for now, how about some dinner?" He smiled weakly. "I hope you don't mind, but I set us up on the patio in back."
"That sounds lovely." She gathered the papers off the bed and put them back in the envelope, then stood and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and led him out of the room.
—X—X—X—
They made their way downstairs and out to the back yard, stopping to each select a fizzy drink from the fridge on the way out.
He walked around to one side of the small table on the patio and pulled the chair out, motioning for Hermione to take the seat, and earned a smile in return. Lifting the metal cloche off of the table, he revealed two plates he'd put together containing beds of simple pasta in a rich sauce with grilled chicken breast sliced atop.
The pair dug into their meals as the sun set in the west, casting long shadows across the ground as the blue of the sky deepened.
Conversation over dinner was sparse, but not in a way that was awkward. They were both contemplative and still adjusting to their new reality. One without being hunted, and without the cloud of evil hovering around them, reaching out from the darkness. They were comfortable enough with each other, after all they'd been through, that to sit in silence wasn't in any way uncomfortable.
While eating, they continuously caught each other's gaze, and after a few turns, they finally reached out across the table to hold hands, playfully tracing their palms and knuckles as they finished their meals.
When they finished eating, Hermione turned her attention to the rest of the yard as Harry insisted that he be the one to clear the table. There was an old, tall oak tree in the yard, its canopy sufficient to cast a shade over about half of it, were the leaves fully filled in. There was a rope swing hanging from a thick branch that appeared wide enough to comfortably seat both of them.
The grass in the yard was thick, and a rich shade of green, unlike it had been in the dense forests they'd spent much of the spring hiding out in. In one corner of the fenced yard, in clear view of the windows at the rear of the house, there was a small collection of shrubs partially encircling a bird bath. And off on the other side of the yard was a circular fire pit surrounded by comfortable looking seats.
While Harry was presumably down in the kitchen somewhere, Hermione got up and wandered to the fire pit. It would have looked almost like a natural feature in a cave somewhere, hewn of dark gray stone with no apparent seams or masonry involved, and she saw a rune she recognized etched in the outer ring. She touched it with a finger and a roaring flame burst to life in the pit, warming her and casting warm, flickering light around the yard.
Harry emerged from the back door of the house and beheld a sight he'd treasure for as long as he could remember it.
Hermione was bundled cozily in a light blanket next to a roaring fire, her face radiant in the light of the flames and her hair waving subtly in the soft breeze of the evening, reflecting like frizzy streaks of golden thread in the flickering light. Next to her, on a small table, were two glasses and a bottle Harry didn't recognize.
"To what do I owe that dazed smile, Harry?" She asked playfully as he approached her. She patted the cushion right next to her for him to take a seat.
"I feel like I've missed more than a few opportunities over the years to tell you that you're beautiful… I think I'm just happy I can say it now."
"You certainly can." She beamed at him. "Come, sit here next to me. You're rather easy on the eyes yourself." She said with a subtle blush as she stretched out an arm and the blanket for him to sit next to her under the cover.
He went to her, and kissed her before sitting down. Instead of sitting, though, he pivoted and laid on his back with his head resting on her lap. They sat like that for a while, one of her hands in both of his, while the other played in his shorter-than-usual hair. Gazing into the fire, or up at the stars and simply enjoying being together.
"Was that a bottle of wine I saw?" Harry asked after settling in a bit.
"It is. Thought we might have some. Feels like being here is worth a bit of celebration, no?"
"You're not wrong. I don't know if I've ever had wine before. Butterbeer, and some firewhiskey, but not wine."
"I think you'll like this one… On holidays sometimes, my parents would let me try a glass with dinner."
Harry smiled and allowed her to have a moment enjoying a memory of her parents. He really wanted to ask her about them, but decided that it might not be the right time.
"Do you know much about wine?" Harry asked.
"Not really, no. Just a few types by name." She shifted, and he sat up so she could pour them a glass. "This one is a Moscato. They tend to be pretty sweet."
"Thanks." Harry said as she handed him a glass. "So, to what shall we toast, then?" He looked at her, offering her the first toast.
She thought for a moment, staring into the flickering flames, before raising her glass.
"To recovery." She said.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and clinked his glass against hers. "And to the ones we lost along the way." He added.
They both drank. The liquid was cool and smooth in his mouth, and it was indeed sweet. He decided he enjoyed it.
Hermione raised her glass once more, drawing Harry's attention. "To you, Harry."
He looked at her searchingly.
"If it weren't for what you were able to do…" she trailed off.
"All I did was survive, love. Barely."
"You did more than that, and you know it." She insisted, not letting him hedge.
"Fine, but I couldn't have done any of it without you, Hermione." His eyes met hers and she knew he meant it.
"Books, and cleverness…" she said softly, looking up at the starry sky.
"That, and more courage, and heart, than anyone I know."
She rolled her eyes, but smiled at him, glass still raised.
"How about this?" Harry continued, "To us."
"To us." She agreed, and they both drained their glasses.
—X—X—X—
"Hermione?" He interrupted the quiet crackle of the magical fire for the first time in a while, settled back with his head resting on her legs.
"Mmm?" She looked down at him, seeing his green eyes almost glowing in the shadow cast as he'd turned his head toward her.
"I've been thinking…" He pulled the blanket up closer to his shoulders, keeping her hand warm under it. "I think we might have skipped a few steps, don't you?"
"What do you mean? Steps to what?"
"This. You know?Us, together… I'm not complaining, mind you. But a week ago, we weren't even together, now we're pretty well living together, aren't we?"
Her face fell. "Are you concerned it's too much, too fast? Do you want me to-"
"Do you want to go on a date this weekend?" He asked over her questioning.
Uncertainty dissolved into adoration on her face at that.
"A date? Like, a proper date?" She smiled, excited at the prospect.
"Yes. Will you go out with me Saturday? We can maybe go see a show, go someplace nice for dinner. I don't know really. I've never really been anywhere but Hogsmeade…"
"Of course, I'd love to! But… Aren't you worried about being noticed and hounded? I am…"
He thought for a moment… She made a good point. "We'll stay out of magical areas then. Downtown Muggle London is close. Why not go there? I don't really know anywhere to go, but I don't think that'll be too big a problem."
"Brilliant!" She exclaimed, curling down to kiss him excitedly, her hair tickling his face and the hollow of his neck. "But wait…"
"What is it?"
"Well, we've both spent the last what, ten months, in the same few sets of clothes? I bet if we tried to go to a show in any of the clothes we have with us, we would be stopped at the door, and our trunks are…"
"…At the Burrow." Harry finished her sentence with a groan.
They both thought for a moment.
"What if…" Harry started. "What if we make that our date Saturday? We can go shopping and get all the things we don't have. Hell, I don't know that I've ever owned clothes that were actually new."
"I love that idea, yes!"
For Harry, the smile on her face lit up the yard more effectively than any fire ever could.
"I'll need loads of help though, Hermione." Harry said earnestly. "I don't know the first thing about any of that stuff."
"I think I'm up to the task." Hermione replied with a contemplative smile and a sparkle in her eye.
You've got all that I need
Looking at all or nothing
Babe it's you and I
With you I know that
I'm good for something
So let's go and give it a try
We've got our backs against the ocean
It's just us against the world
Looking at all or nothing
Babe it's you and I
Looking at all or nothing
Babe it's you and I
Artist: Theory of a Deadman
Track: All or Nothing
Album: Scars & Souvenirs