Whole Again by T.C. Geralds

Rating: NC17
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 28/07/2003
Last Updated: 28/07/2003
Status: Completed

What would you do to reclaim the one you love?




1. No Longer Alone
------------------

Disclaimer/Warning: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling. I may write about her creations, but
I don’t make any money off of them. This story contains explicit descriptions of sexual acts, but
is not (I hope) just mindless smut. If you are offended by NC-17 rated material, or are looking for
a PWP piece, I gently urge you to look elsewhere. Enjoy!

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

June 23, 2005 - 10:04 PM

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

It was raining. One of the worst thunderstorms in recent memory was battering London and its
surrounding suburbs, drenching the city in sheets of rain driven forcefully by gusting winds.
Lightning split the sky every several seconds, illuminating the otherwise murky night with
brilliant light. The poor fools stuck outdoors by necessity quickly went about their business, and
were glad to finally get indoors and dry off.

The storm went unnoticed by the lone occupant of a small flat not too far from the center of the
city. Although the sound of rain hitting the windows was loud in the room he currently knelt in,
Harry Potter didn’t hear it at all. He was much too engrossed in what sat in front of him, bubbling
softly. While most of the city’s inhabitants were either getting ready for bed or doing their best
to stay out of the worst of the storm, he sat motionless in front of the large cauldron he had been
working with almost continuously for the last two weeks.

Tonight was the night. He had worked diligently over the last fourteen days, making no mistakes.
He was used to the routine by now – having done the very same thing every year for the past seven
years. The potion was almost ready. How ironic he thought, as he always did, that necessity had
forced him to become one of the world’s foremost alchemists. Snape would be furious, were he still
alive. Harry allowed himself a small mocking grin at the thought.

The potion was only part of the amazingly difficult enchantment he was going to attempt,
however. He had studied potions, spell craft, enchantments and mental focusing for years to be able
to cast the spell he was about to. Yes, years – three years in fact. Three years of living in a
library twenty hours a day, pouring over texts and magical theory, only to relive the day over
again with the help of a time-turner. McGonagall wasn’t going to give it to him when he asked………but
he had convinced her after he explained what he needed it for and what he would use it for. After
all, he thought bitterly, the world owed the boy who lived a few favors. As a result of all his
study, Harry was now the most learned wizard on the planet in his particular field. He needed all
his knowledge tonight. The spell he was going to cast was one of his own creations, and would
require every ounce of magical power he possessed. Soon, he thought.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

June 23, 2005 – 11:59 PM

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

The potion sparkled in its specialized crystal vial, a blood red liquid that smelled of swamps,
and decay, and the mold that grows in dark places. Taking a ceremonial knife made of precious jade,
Harry nicked the ring finger of his left hand. He held the bleeding digit over the vial, and
watched as a single drop of his blood fell into it. The potion swirled madly, finally settling once
its color had darkened to a black the shade of pitch. Harry downed the contents quickly, and
immediately felt it take effect. Searing pain ripped through his body, making him cry out in agony.
He fell to his knees, gasping for breath, as part of his own life force was ripped from him
permanently to fuel the spell he was weaving. A dull shapeless shadow appeared, floating in the air
in front of him; a part of his own spirit willingly sacrificed.

A soft hum reverberated through the room, accompanied by a heaviness in the air. The feel of
power and magic all around the young wizard was staggering, the result of charms and spells that
had been meticulously laid down all day in preparation for this moment. All was in readiness at
last. Harry struggled to his feet as the large grandfather clock in the room struck the first chord
of midnight. His hands were shaking violently, though not in fear or pain. The excitement flowing
through his veins was like a drug, threatening to consume him with its intensity. It was time.

Raising his wand, Harry made the final gesture for the enchantment, focusing all of his will on
the delicate chain of spells that were in place. An aura of pale, sickly light enveloped him. Harry
spoke forcefully, addressing the shade in front of him: “Evocoare Demorior Mori.” A roaring wind
rose in the upstairs flat, and the spectral shape in front of him vanished as the room was
blanketed in an impenetrable darkness. After a brief moment the wind finally calmed, and as the
clock struck the twelfth cord, light returned to the room. Outside, unnoticed, the storm had
abated, leaving the city streets quiet and still. In Harry’s flat, two people stood facing each
other, both amazingly alive………for now.

She was almost exactly as he remembered her. She was older now – they had both aged a year since
he had seen her last. But it was still Hermione. She grew more beautiful each year he saw her, the
young woman he had loved for so long becoming the radiant beauty now before him. Long golden-brown
hair cascaded over her shoulders, falling to her waist. Her soft brown eyes hadn’t changed – they
still tormented his dreams. She was unclad, and Harry took in the rest of her body almost
mechanically, too focused on her eyes to think of aught else. Those eyes looked directly at him,
through him, full of love and sadness……..and regret.

“Oh my love – you must stop this. It can come to no good end. Why do you torment yourself so?
Let me go Harry. Let yourself be free. Live again.”

“How can I live without you?” he choked. “You are my life, now and always. How could fate have
been so cruel to us? Why did you have to die?”

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

June 22, 1998 – 4:42 PM

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

“I can’t believe it’s almost over,” Harry said. “Hogworts has been my home for seven years, and
now that we’re almost done I just can’t grasp it.” A wistful smile crossed his face. “I guess I’ll
always think of it as home, in a sense. It certainly has been a lifeline for me.” He looked askance
at the pretty young witch sitting along the water’s edge near him. “Hermione? You’re awfully quiet.
What are you thinking?”

“Just how much things change,” she replied. She continued to look out over the water of the
lake, the tone of her voice leading Harry to believe her mind was miles away. “I still remember how
happy I was when I found out I was a witch. Growing up, all I remember was constantly feeling out
of place. Everyone just thought I was an annoyingly smart little girl, too wise and mature for her
own good. When I found out, it was like......being born again. Hogworts helped me feel like I
belonged in the world.” Her eyes came to rest on his, her daydreaming at an end. “I will always be
grateful for that.”

Harry grinned then, and she could see the boy of eleven in his eyes. She discreetly looked away,
knowing from long experience that when she looked at him too closely, looked at him like she wanted
to during moments like these; the awkwardness would spring up again. She hated it, hated not being
totally honest with him. She knew that he was aware of how she felt about him, and she was almost
certain he returned her feelings. Things had been this way for well over a year now – half glances,
a brushing of hands, chaste kisses goodnight. But neither of them had acted. There
were…..complications. And it wasn’t just Ron. The strength of the emotions themselves scared both
of them. They each held their feelings for the other in check, afraid of what might happen if they
were ever expressed.

“We’d better get inside. If we’re not there to help decorate the great hall for the celebration
tonight, we’ll catch hell.” She watched as the merriment left his eyes, being replaced by the
subtle sadness that always accompanied these moments. Moments where they got too close, where the
careful façade each used as a defense was threatened. The melancholy swept across his face quickly,
gone in an instant -- it was doubtful anyone but she would have even noticed it. He stood quickly,
reaching down to help her up from the soft grass.

“Even after all these years of Ron and I corrupting you,” he teased, “you’re still worried about
being late and getting into trouble. I somehow doubt they’ll give the head girl detention if she’s
a little late in joining the decorating committee, especially considering that it’s the last week
of school and she has the highest academic scores in the history of the school.” The boyish grin
was back. “Still……I suppose you could have a point. If we wait too long, who knows what Ron will
see fit to decorate the great hall with. Race you!” Harry took off at top speed, laughing loudly at
the look of surprise on Hermione’s face.

“Oh, you are an insufferable cheater Harry Potter!” She raced after him, her own laughter
ringing across the Hogworts grounds.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

June 24, 2005 – 12:02 AM

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

He struggled to stay in control of himself as memories of that wonderful day surged powerfully
through him. He could still see her in his mind’s eye as she was back then: young, beautiful, full
of life. She was looking at him still, that sorrowful gaze that was always there when she first
appeared, when he called her back from the place that had stolen her from him.

“You have to stop this Harry. Every time you cast the enchantment, part of your own life force
is lost. I can sense how weak you’re becoming. What you are doing isn’t natural! It goes against
nature, my love…..and it is killing you. I couldn’t bear to think that you would kill yourself just
to get a few hours with me back.” She stepped forward, her pale slender hand reaching up to lightly
caress his face. He shivered at the contact, barely in control.

“I can see you, you know. I see what you’ve become. Every waking moment you’re devising
revisions to the spell. You want to make the enchantment last longer. I know you ultimately want it
to bring me back permanently. The only time you’re not working on it is when you have to write and
turn in your reports to get research funding. All your friends, Harry – OUR friends – you’ve let
them slip away. Even Ron has given up on your ever getting over this. You don’t need to live in
solitude. Please, I beg you……say goodbye to me tonight, and let me go.” Hermione pulled him to her,
holding him close as he wept.

When the storm of weeping had passed, he gathered her in his arms. Eyes bright with tears, Harry
gently picked her up and carried her to his bed. He laid her on the mattress gently, and she drew
him down beside her. As he joined her on the sheets, his mind saw another place, another
time…….

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

June 22, 1998 – 9:21 PM

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Lavender and the rest of the decoration committee had really outdone themselves. The great hall
of Hogworts was bedecked with festive colors. Streamers and moving decorations adorned the walls
and ceiling. A large banner hung behind the head table, ‘Congratulations class of ‘98’ written
boldly across it in bright lettering. The entire seventh year class was present along with their
dates, formally attired for the occasion. Music, in a wide variety, was overseen by none other than
Ronald Weasley himself. He had proudly come stag to the ball, one of few who had. There were a
variety of opinions concerning why he had not brought a date – although few knew the truth of his
breakup with Lavender. The former couple was keeping it a secret until they were gone from the
school. Most assumed they were merely in the middle of a spat, and had thus come separately to the
dance.

Harry and Hermione had come together, agreeing it would be better to go as friends and not
experience any of the pressures of being single at the dance. This tactic had failed miserably of
course. Each of them was asked to dance by most of the members of the opposite sex at the party
over the course of the evening. Many of the women flirted with Harry, hoping to catch his notice –
it was well known he had rarely dated after Cho Chang and was currently single, making him the most
eligible bachelor in the class. They might as well have not been in the room with him for all the
attention he gave them.

She looked radiant tonight. She had picked a slightly above knee-length black dress, strapless,
which showed a generous expanse of the smooth skin of her back, and showcased a pair of legs that
were the envy of the female student body. Her hair, usually the bushy mess she lamented over daily,
was straight but for the curled ends, and it hung just past her shoulders. Every male in the room
wanted to be Harry at one point of the night, usually when he was slowly twirling Hermione about
the dance floor. Many of them tried their best to dazzle her with witty conversation and
compliments, but their words fell on deaf ears. She only had eyes for one person.

As the evening wound down, Harry and Hermione finally got a rest from dancing. He poured them
both some punch, and sat next to her along one of the walls, watching their classmates celebrate
the end of their tenure at school. Both of them sat quietly, not speaking, silently enjoying the
other’s company as they had done on so many nights before this. It was amazing how they could be
content just being together. Lethargy seemed to seep into both of them, time slowing down as one
more precious memory was crystallized between them.

Ron’s voice came booming over a sudden lapse in the music. “Ok guys and girls, we’re coming up
on the end of the night. There are just a few more slow dances to go, so grab your partner and
enjoy the rest of the evening!”

Smiling, Harry stood and held out an arm to Hermione with mock formalness. “Dance?”

He was treated to one of her gorgeous smiles. “I’d love to.” A small laugh escaped her lips as
she was led out to the floor. Music began to play once more, and Harry took her in his arms,
holding her close as they began to move. It was an older song in a minor key, and the two teenagers
let it wash over them as they danced.

*‘All my instincts, they return
And the grand facade, so soon will burn
Without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside

In your eyes
The light the heat
In your eyes
I am complete
In your eyes
I see the doorway to a thousand churches
In your eyes
The resolution of all the fruitless searches
In your eyes
I see the light and the heat
In your eyes
Oh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light
The heat I see in your eyes.’*

Time seemed to stop entirely as he held Hermione in his arms. During the earlier dances, he had
been careful to keep some distance between their bodies, always thinking about being careful; about
avoiding the awkwardness. He found as the song continued that he was holding her more tightly, his
arms around her waist and his forehead touching hers. When had he gotten so close to her? Her eyes
were staring into his, and for once she wasn’t hiding her feelings from him. They were written
plainly for him to see, longing and hope and fear that this moment would soon become like all the
others. Unheard by either of them, the song continued.

*‘Love, I don't like to see so much pain
So much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away.’*

They had stopped dancing. Harry’s hand made its way slowly up her face, fingers coming to rest
lightly on her cheek. Her eyes widened as he leaned in, lips coming slowly closer to hers.
Hermione’s breathing quickened, and she let her eyes close as she felt his soft breath on her
skin.

“Hey mate, mind if I cut in?” A strong slap on the back almost made Harry fall forward. Shaking
his head as if coming out of a trance, he turned around to see a beaming Ron Weasley standing
behind him, trademark crooked grin on his freckled face. Staring stupidly, Harry opened his mouth
to speak but no words came out at first. Mentally slapping himself, he was finally about to respond
when he noticed the look on Ron’s face.

“What‘s wrong with Hermione?” Harry quickly turned at Ron’s words to see the object of the
question fleeing from the great hall amidst the stares of many of their classmates. He didn’t
bother to reply to his flabbergasted friend as he took off at full speed, praying he hadn’t done
irreparable harm.

He knew where to find her. She always came here when she was sad or needed to think. It had
unofficially become ‘her’ place, although they never referred to it as that of course. He came up
quietly behind her, watching as she dipped her now bare feet in the water. The gentle sound of her
crying was loud in the otherwise quiet setting. She knew he was there, of course. She always knew
somehow when he was near. She carefully picked her feet up out of the water and stood to face him,
discreetly wiping at her damp eyes.

“Hi Harry. Wasn’t that a great party? The decorations were so beautiful, and Ron’s music wasn’t
nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Did you see it when Dean tried to spike the punch?
McGonagall was all over him!” A painfully forced smile twisted her face as she regarded him.

Something broke inside him as he watched Hermione trying to recover. The moonlight showed
clearly where tears had recently made their way down her face, silver trails a sharp contrast to
her light skin. A stunning clarity came over him as he looked at her and realized he was the cause
of all her pain. The tide of feeling he had learned to keep in check crashed over him in a wave,
and with it a deep-seated panic. This is what he had been afraid of for years; ever since he had
first realized what it was he felt for Hermione. He was scared of what would happen if he
surrendered to it at last. His breathing quickened; his fists clenched at his sides as he raged
against his own caution, his own emotional defenses. Harry reached deep within himself, beyond all
of his past misery, his fears, and his doubts. He would run no more, complications be damned.

“Don’t.” It came out loud, a desperate plea. She looked at him in surprise, having figured they
were now on safe ground again thanks to her. Emotion flooded her face: uncertainty, anxiety, and
something he couldn’t place.

“Harry?” She stood still, the evening breeze lightly blowing her hair out behind her.

He walked towards her, and she felt fear rise up within her at the look in his eyes. Usually a
gentle green, they burned now with an emerald fire that threatened to take her breath away.
Involuntarily she backed away, soon feeling herself pressed against one of the willows that ringed
the perimeter of the lake. Her breath came in hurried bursts as he continued his advance, stopping
a few scant steps from her.

“Don’t. I am tired of denying my feelings. Tired of being afraid of how I feel about you. I’m
tired of seeing the hurt in your eyes, and feeling guilty that I want to be more than your friend.
I’m not going to pretend any more.” He gathered his courage and held out his hand to her. “I love
you Hermione.”

She shook her head frantically in response. “No. Don’t say that.” The tears came again, gently
spilling down her cheeks. This time she let them fall unchecked.

Harry kept looking into her eyes, and stepped closer. He could reach forward and touch her if he
wanted. His voice steadied, became more confident. “I love you.”

“Don’t say that again,” she whispered. He finally reached out, hand touching the willow’s base
near her head, leaning in close to her. His face was inches from hers, eyes threatening to consume
her in their fire. Both of them were breathing heavily, almost gasping in the night air.

“I love you Hermione.”

“No!” she struck him across the face, the slap sounding overloud in the silence. His head
snapped to the side, but his face registered no pain when he turned to stare at her once more. This
was real, the stare promised. There was no more need of defenses. She could see the truth in his
eyes; feel the light in them burning her with its heat. Terror and elation swept through her as she
surrendered at last to the feelings that had been repressed for so long. With a loud cry, Hermione
fell into Harry’s arms; the wish she had never dared to hope might come true being realized at
last.

“I love you,” she breathed in his ear. “I’ve always loved you.”

Their lips met for the first time in a real kiss, and both Harry and Hermione surrendered to the
emotions sweeping through them. She let out a small moan as he crushed his lips to hers, his arms
tightening about her. He tasted her, tongue parting her lips and gently exploring her mouth. He
kissed her neck, her eyes, her face, as her hands buried themselves in his hair. He kissed her the
way he had dreamed of a thousand times. His want of her was a physical ache denied for too long,
and it was with some effort that he forced himself to break apart from her. The night air felt too
cool on his flushed skin.

“Hermione……….”

“Let’s go to my room – now. God I need you Harry.” Her voice broke. “I’ve needed you for so
long.” He took her hand, and they made their way back to the castle. The party was almost over, and
the young couple hurried to Gryffindor tower and up the stairs to the head girl’s dorm. As soon as
the door was closed and locked with the most powerful charm Hermione knew, Harry gently picked her
up and laid her down on the bed.

She smiled up at him, hair splayed about her across the pillows. “I can’t believe this is
happening.”

“I only wish it had happened sooner. I’m a coward Hermione.”

“You don’t know how to be a coward Harry. We both know we’ve only stayed apart because we wanted
to spare --" His finger on her lips silenced her.

“Not now. We can deal with that later.” He smiled at her, picking up her hand and placing a
gentle kiss on the fingers. “Right now, for once, let things be only about us.” She nodded
wordlessly. Standing up, she turned away from him and glanced back over her shoulder.

“Unzip me?”

With shaking hands, the boy who lived slowly parted the zipper of Hermione’s dress. She stepped
out of it quickly and spun to face him, a nervous smile on her face. She was wearing a black bra
and panties, and right then she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She reached out and
undid the buttons on his shirt, drawing it off his shoulders to join the dress on the floor. His
pants soon followed. His arms went around her, and soon his lips were on hers once more, gentle and
tentative. His hands caressed her back as they kissed, their bodies pressed tightly together.

He needed to see all of her. His fingers fumbled with the clasp of the bra, and he flushed as
his first few attempts failed miserably. He was mortified at first as she pulled away laughing, but
quickly joined in with his own laughter after a moment. She grinned at him as she unhooked the
clasps, slowly drawing the straps over her shoulders. With a final shrug, it joined the growing
pile of clothing on the floor. Her arms dropped to her sides shyly, and she heard his intake of
breath. She was magnificent.

Hooking his thumbs in her final piece of clothing, he slid the panties down her legs and off.
Standing, he drank in the sight of her naked before him. Her skin was lightly tanned from the sun.
Her hair framed her beautiful face perfectly, and her brown eyes were shining in the light of the
room. Her breasts were topped with light pink nipples, already stiff with her excitement. Her legs
were long and sleek, and the sight of the mound between them made him swallow hard. God, she was
beautiful.

“Your turn,” she said softly. She reached for his boxers and drew them off quickly. He was no
longer the gangly boy he once had been, that was for certain. He was leanly muscled, and she could
feel the definition in his chest as she ran her hands over it. His eyes were positively aglow with
passion, and his unruly hair was the same as ever. She could sense his excitement, and see the
visible proof of it between his legs, where he was fully erect.

Harry quickly drew them down on the bed again, settling between her legs as he captured her lips
once again with his own. Her hands roamed over his body while her tongue pushed into his mouth, and
he groaned as his entire body responded to her touch. He wanted everything to be perfect their
first time, but he needed to be one with her – needed it with a maddening desperation. “Mione,” he
gasped. “I need…in you…”

“Yes,” she pleaded. “We can go slowly later, only now – please!” She raised her hips and he
pushed slowly forward, looking deep in her eyes as he entered her for the first time with a gasp.
The very air around them seemed charged with electricity as they finally became one. An unspoken
thought passed between Harry and Hermione in that moment – that a promise never uttered had finally
been fulfilled. All the pain of their forced aloofness, all the sadness at their lack of true
intimacy was soothed away as they at last acknowledged what had been there between them all along.
He smiled at her then, a soft sweet smile full of his love for her. She smiled back, nodding
slightly in understanding.

A small part of him regretted that they were not each other’s first. They had both had lovers,
the affairs brief and unsatisfying. Each had known deep in their hearts that the only person they
really wanted was right in front of them. It had seemed so impossible to each of them for there to
ever be more than friendship between them, and so they had sought comfort in the arms of others.
Harry had never regretted it as much as he did then, the sadness a small blight on what was
otherwise a perfect moment.

He stayed that way, fully seated inside her as he gazed deep in her eyes. His hand stroked her
cheek, gently brushing away her happy tears. A soft moan escaped his lips as her warm wetness
gripped him. He reveled in the knowledge that he was inside Hermione. They fit perfectly together.
How many times had he dreamt of this moment? He felt her legs wrap around his waist; a silent
request from the amazing woman sharing this experience with him.

Her hands found his, fingers twining with his own as he moved above her, within her. She could
feel him sliding in and out of her with full steady strokes, her name a mantra on his lips. He
rained kisses on her face, moving frantically from lips to neck to ear, wanting to be everywhere at
once. Her legs remained wrapped around him, pulling him in, encouraging him to give her all of
himself. Harry lost himself in Hermione, lost himself in a love long denied, and finally
consummated.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

June 24, 2005 – 12:32 AM

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Hermione’s cries of pleasure increased in volume as she drew closer and closer to release. Her
hands released his, moving to gently cup his face as he desperately thrust inside her. Harry
groaned loudly as he felt her spasm around him, her loud cry of ecstasy ringing in his ears. Her
back arched off the bed, and he didn’t stop moving as she shuddered beneath him.

After a moment it was done. She smiled at him as she came down from the peak, her body relaxing
and her hand gently caressing his chest as he continued to stroke his hardness within her. He was
close, she could tell. His breathing was ragged, his motions erratic. He bent to capture a nipple
in his mouth, lips feasting on the soft flesh of her breast as he thrust violently with his hips.
Hermione wrapped her arms around him and whispered in his ear.

“Now, now,” she softly coaxed.

He came with a great cry, buried within her, his entire body shuddering as she held him tightly.
Her mouth breathed, “I love you,” over and over in his ear as he emptied himself inside her. He had
never felt as close to her as he did in that moment – he could almost feel an energy passing
between them, binding them together.

Minutes passed, both of them motionless, Harry still inside her. Bright green eyes stared deeply
into soft brown ones in a silent communion of love and unity. In their minds they were seventeen
again, limbs entwined and hearts full to bursting as they came down from the heights of their first
time making love. He remembered how she shook in his embrace, holding him as if her very life
depended on it. She remembered the look on his face as he let go within her that first time, a
mixture of fulfilled longing and loving awe as he gazed down at her, green eyes sparkling with
life.

The memory faded, leaving the two lovers in the present. Tears covered both their faces,
testimony to the knowledge they held that this moment was fleeting, temporary. The few hours they
had before morning were all that were allowed to them. When the sun rose, all that would be left to
Harry were the memories of this night, just as it had been for the last six years. A soft sob
wracked his body as he lowered his head to her breasts, crying bitter tears of loss and
heartbreak.

“There are times when I wish that I were truly dead,” she softly spoke. “At least if I were
there would be closure…for both of us. He didn’t even give us that. Not even that.”

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

June 23, 1998 – 11:57 PM

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Harry fought back tears as he looked over the school grounds. Small fires still burned, legacy
to the battle that had raged here for the last hour. Bodies lay lifeless on the ground, Death Eater
and Auror both. Students were also among the dead, cut down as they came forth to defend what was
to many of them a second home. There were far too many dead, he thought with an eerily calm
detachment. No one had ever expected an attack on Hogworts. Everyone assumed Voldemort was too
afraid of Dumbledore to challenge him at the very seat of his power. They had been wrong. And they
had paid.

When the attack had come, it had come quickly. A staggering ripple of power had surged through
the school and its grounds as the dark wizards worked their spell, shattering protections a
thousand years old -- protections that prevented enemy wizards from apparating on the grounds.

It had been felt by everyone, asleep and awake. The screams had started not long after, as the
dark one’s followers surged onto the grounds and into the castle, killing and destroying all in
their path. Voldemort’s voice boomed over the school grounds, magically amplified, calling for
Dumbledore to face him if he dared. There had been no sign of him so far.

Harry and Hermione had been awake when the attack came, together in her room, quietly discussing
their future. They had not made love since the night before, content for the time being to merely
be together and hold one another as they planned for a life together. Fear swept through them as
they heard Voldemort’s challenge and the screams of the dying.

A strange feeling of calm had settled over Harry. He stood quickly, pulling Hermione with him.
“Let’s help end this. I’ve lived in fear for so long………I just want it to end.”

“You won’t be alone against him this time Harry,” she said, pulling him into a fierce embrace.
“I’ll be with you.”

Hermione was still at his side, one of the few still able to fight; one of the few still alive.
Help had started arriving shortly after the assault began, ministry wizards responding to tripped
wards. Many of those had died too, the sheer number of dark wizards having been more than anyone
could have guessed. Voldemort had more followers than the order and the ministry had given him
credit for. A flash of green light to his left caught Harry’s attention, and he moved in that
direction, Hermione close behind him.

Although he knew the Dark Lord was there on the grounds, it still came as a shock to Harry when
they came to the lake’s edge and saw the figure in the black robes. Voldemort’s back was facing
them and his wand was raised, dealing death to the Auror that had dared to face him. The sickly
green light and rushing of wind had just ceased, the lifeless victim’s corpse falling to the ground
as the young couple came upon him. He was standing near the tree where just the night before they
had finally admitted their love to themselves and each other. Sensing the two students behind him,
he spun around, wand leading in his outstretched hand.

Not hesitating for a second, Harry pointed his wand and yelled “Deflagroare!!” A sheet of flame
surged towards his foe, but with a soft popping sound Voldemort vanished, only to reappear to his
right.

The dark one’s fell voice rang out in the night. “Aevum Conquiesco!!” A shimmering appeared in
the air over Harry and Hermione, and they both froze in place as Voldemort’s magic held them in
thrall. The malicious figure regarded both of them with amusement.

“Harry Potter.” He spat the name like a curse. “I’ve been expecting you.” He raised an emaciated
finger to tap his forehead mockingly, and Harry felt pain rip through his scar. “Long you have
thwarted my designs, but no more. There is no one to save you now. That coward Dumbledore refuses
to show his face. I will take your life myself.” Menacing eyes turned to look at Hermione. “But
first I think I’ll deprive you of the one you love the most.” As shock broke over Harry’s face, the
Dark Lord laughed. “Oh yes. You have no secrets from me, Harry. I know of your feelings for the
young Miss Granger. You tell me everything, whether you wish to or not.”

Voldemort’s hand dipped into his robes, removing a small crystal vial. “I had originally planned
this little surprise for you – a fitting payment for the fourteen years of hell you caused me. But
it will be much more satisfying to have you watch as I banish the woman you love to the spirit
world, still alive, instead.” Harry struggled against the magic holding him in place, terrified and
furious at Voldemort’s words, but he was unable to break its hold over him.

With a flick of his wand, the dark lord sent the vial hurtling to crash at Hermione’s feet. A
dark aura surrounded her, enveloping her in unholy light, as Harry screamed. Voldemort’s laughter
echoed across the water.

“Living death Harry. She’ll be trapped in the realm of spirits, but unlike a ghost, she won’t be
able to manifest in the physical world. She will live, grow old, and die – alone. And she will have
an eternity to curse your name, for it will be your love of her that puts her there.” Voldemort’s
wand turned to point at Harry. “Die now, knowing you have condemned her to a fate worse than your
own will be. AVADA –-"

“ABROGOARE AETERNITASATIS!!” a voice roared from the darkness. A brilliant shaft of light
pierced the sky, illuminating the dark lord with white incandescence. Screaming, Voldemort dropped
his wand as layer after layer of dark magic was stripped from him, the evil enchantments that gave
him near eternal life being systematically annulled. He fell to the ground, writhing in agony.
Behind him, Dumbledore kept his wand trained on the shuddering form, concentration and effort
apparent on his wizened face. In that moment, Harry felt the spell rendering him powerless
shatter.

Terrible rage swelled in him as he saw Hermione silently screaming within the dark cloud now
outlining her body. In his mind he saw all the pain and suffering Voldemort had caused to him and
those he loved; the faces of his dead parents, Sirius, Cedric. Hand trembling, Harry leveled his
wand at the Dark Lord. He spoke no word.

A rippling band of pure elemental magic burst from the wand’s tip, striking Voldemort squarely
in the chest. With his defenses being held down by Dumbledore, he had no power to resist or repel
the attack. A gurgling scream bubbled from his lips as he was almost ripped in half by the fury of
Harry’s magic. He twitched slightly and fell back in the grass.

“Hermione!” Harry screamed. He ran to her, his hands grasping her own tightly. She struggled
within the thin outline of black light that enveloped her, but it was obvious she was losing the
battle against the enchantment that had been placed upon her. He saw with alarm that she was
starting to turn transparent – he could see the grass behind her through her body. Panic gripped
him as his mind frantically tried to think of a way to reverse the spell. A weak chuckle came from
the ground near him.

“You may have killed me Potter, but you still have lost. You can’t save her. I was still…the
better…wizard…” A final sigh escaped Voldemort’s lips, and he lay still.

“Don’t listen to him Harry. You’ve won.” Hermione’s voice seemed to come from a great distance.
Her body shimmered in the evening air, seemingly made up of silvery motes of light. “I love you
Harry. Never forget…I love you.”

“I love you too. Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me. We’ve only just started to live.” There
was a sparkling in the air, and the silver lights winked out, leaving no trace of Hermione behind.
Harry was left holding nothing but air.

He screamed then, a terrible sound full of anger, pain, and horrible loss. Wrapping his arms
around himself, Harry wept bitterly in the grass. He rocked back and forth, making nonsensical
noises, desperately trying to hold on to sanity as his world crashed down around him. She wasn’t
gone. She couldn’t be.

A hand gently gripped his shoulder, pulling him to his feet. Dumbledore looked as if he had aged
twenty years; his face was drawn and haggard in the evening light. “It is over. I am sorry I
couldn’t get here sooner Harry. I had to make sure the spell was perfect; that I could strip him of
the protections that made it impossible to kill him.” He looked at where Hermione had stood just
moments before. “I am so sorry I wasn’t in time.” His eyes locked with Harry’s, and he saw that all
the light was gone from them.

“She would want you to go on Harry. Live for her – it is what she would have wanted.”

Dumbledore stepped back from the horrible look in Harry’s eyes as he rose to his feet. “Live?”
he asked woodenly. “I am already dead.” He turned without another word and walked to where
Voldemort lay lifeless in the grass. He stared down at the body, then bent and picked up the wand
that was the twin to his own. The crack as the wood split in his hands was loud in the silence.
Harry quietly made his way back to the castle.

Standing alone near the body of his former student, Albus Dumbledore watched Harry walk away,
tears trickling down his face.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

June 24, 2005 – 12:51 AM

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Harry shuddered as the last of the memory faded. To the rest of the world, he had been mostly
dead for the last seven years. After that horrible day he had concentrated all his efforts on the
study of necromancy and the spirit world, determined to find a way to bring Hermione back. He knew
that she was still alive in a sense, still aging just as he was. She was just trapped and alone,
and that thought haunted him every day of his life.

He had spent three years repeating the same day over and over, pouring over magical tomes and
learning theory from the masters of the field. The spell he had been able to craft had worked, but
with severe limitations…and a high personal cost. It could only be cast on the anniversary of her
banishment, and it only lasted until dawn. Each casting cost him part of his own life, which was
necessary to pull her essence temporarily back to the mortal plane. He had cast the spell every
year since her banishing, each time modifying the enchantment in the hopes that this time it would
last longer, maybe even bring her back permanently. So far it had not worked…and Harry didn’t know
how many more times he could cast the enchantment before it killed him.

Hermione lie next to him in the bed, her head pillowed on his chest. He felt her stir in his
arms as she looked at him, the expressive eyes he loved so much taking in his face as if trying to
memorize every line, every nuance. How small my own pain is next to hers, he thought. He could at
least choose to interact with the world if he chose. She was trapped in a world where only she
existed. She had no one to talk to, no one to comfort her loneliness. Surrounded by ghosts that she
couldn’t communicate with, she was utterly alone.

A lone tear made its way down Harry’s face as he saw understanding in her eyes. She knew that he
punished himself every day for what had happened to her. Yet she didn’t blame him. Her finger
gently wiped away his tear, and a sorrowful smile crossed her lips.

“Please Harry, listen to me. This isn’t your fault. I chose to love you the same as you chose to
love me. We fought it for years, but in the end we came together as I believe we were always meant
to. Do you regret that you chose to finally admit that you love me?”

“Never,” he choked.

“Then let go of the guilt that torments you.” She ruffled his hair fondly, smiling at him. “Our
time is limited…let’s not waste it on guilt, remorse, or thoughts of the bastard that is really
responsible for all of this.” She pulled her mouth to his as her hands tangled in his hair. There
was a desperate need in her eyes. He could see the emptiness that was her life now, the terrible
pain and solitude that she was forced to endure. They broke their kiss, and Hermione whispered to
him in the darkness of the room.

“Make love to me. Make love to me like it’s the last time you ever will.”

Harry wrapped her in his arms, his lips lightly grazing the side of her neck. He gently nibbled
on an earlobe, hearing her sharp intake of breath. His hands ran over the smooth skin of her
stomach, and she shivered at his touch. His mouth captured her own, tongue gently caressing her
lips and playing over her teeth as she sighed. One hand cupped her breast, thumb tracing delicate
circles about her hardening nipple. She cried out softly as he bent his head to swirl his tongue
around the other nipple. Her breathing quickened as warmth spread through her body, a dull ache
growing between her thighs.

“Yes,” she called out softly. “Make me feel, Harry. Make me feel………”

His lips placed gentle kisses on her breasts, her stomach. He tried to leave no part of her
flesh untouched, hands kneading and stroking as his lips tasted her. His mouth came at last to the
top of her mound, and he moved around it, placing soft kisses on her inner thighs. Her legs spread
wider, granting him access to where she desperately needed him to be.

“Please,” she pleaded.

Harry’s hands wrapped around her legs, and he pulled her to his waiting mouth. His tongue gently
teased her folds, drawing gasps of pleasure from her. She cried out as he slid a finger inside her,
stroking her wetness while he stimulated her with his lips and tongue. Her hips shook as he gently
licked and suckled at her sensitive flesh.

Harry tried to give her as much pleasure as possible, mouth moving continuously to reach her
pleasure points. His tongue was relentless, licking her outer folds in broad strokes. His eyes were
filled with heat as he stared up her body and locked gazes with her. He removed his finger from her
at last, replacing it with his tongue, probing deep as she moaned in the darkness. Her legs shook
as waves of pleasure rolled through her. He slowly moved back up to the top of her mound with his
tongue, slipping the finger back inside as Hermione’s hips bucked beneath him.

She let out as a soft scream as he finally came to her pleasure center and took it in his mouth.
The finger beat a steady rhythm inside her as he sucked insistently on the hard nub between his
lips. Hermione’s entire body went rigid as Harry’s efforts finally brought her past the point of no
return. He rode out the storm with her, holding her tightly to his mouth, still sucking as she let
go with a loud cry of release. She locked eyes with him as her climax overtook her.

When Hermione at last fell back on the bed, body quivering, he released her from his mouth.
Smiling, he placed a final kiss on her mound before moving up to enfold her in his arms once more.
His body ached to be inside her and a passion such as he had never felt, bordering on madness,
swept through him. He needed to possess her utterly.

Hermione, sensing his mood as she usually did, rolled over on her stomach, propping herself on
hands and knees -- offering herself to him.

It wasn’t gentle. Harry took her with a savagery that surprised them both. He pounded into her
from behind, crying out her name as she gripped him tightly within her. He felt her peak, once,
twice. Relentless, he stroked fast and deep, needing to spend himself inside her, claim her in the
most primal way possible. Voldemort may have mostly robbed him of her, but at this moment she was
his, gloriously his. His own scream sounded alien in his ears as he finally came, filling her with
his essence.

Afterward, he held her tightly in his arms as his breathing returned to normal. They both knew
there were many ways to show love; some gentle, some raw and uncontrollable. What mattered was that
she was his, and he was hers………for now.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

June 24, 2005 – 4:43 AM

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

They didn’t have much time left. Each of them knew it; neither of them spoke of it. They had
filled the early hours holding each other, making love, and soothing the other’s tears when they
came. He couldn’t bear the thought of having to watch her vanish before his eyes once more. Every
year it became harder, knowing that empty joyless days yawned ahead, despair his only companion. He
didn’t think he could take it again.

“It has to end.” She was watching his face, her own a solemn mask. “You may die in the next
casting, or if not, the next after that. But you WILL die Harry, and I couldn’t bear that. You
still have a life to live here, and people that care about you.” Her hands firmly took his, and she
forced him to meet her gaze. “He stole my life; don’t let him steal yours too. You have to go
on.”

“I don’t know how,” he told her. “How can I live and let myself be happy, knowing you are
trapped and alone, forever?”

“Not forever. We will be together again. This life doesn’t last forever. And wherever we do go
after this life ends, I know we will find each other. You must promise me you won’t cast the
enchantment again Harry. Swear it to me. Swear on your love for me.” Her eyes pleaded…and he could
not deny her.

“I swear.” His voice sounded hollow. They held each other, not speaking, not crying. Neither had
any tears left. He kissed her softly, repeatedly, trying to picture her exactly as she was then,
beautiful and alive and in his arms. She smiled at him, her heart in her eyes, and pulled him into
her embrace. The only sound in the flat was their soft breathing. He would remember the quiet peace
and love he felt in her arms, clinging to the memory of it in the weeks to come.

Morning came quietly to London. A barely distinguishable lightening of the sky marked the day’s
arrival. Hermione was looking deeply into Harry’s eyes, saying more with a glance than words ever
could. A silvery outline appeared about her body as the Sun’s first rays crept through the
window.

“There are other worlds than this,” she spoke softly. “I will always love you Harry. We will be
together again.”

“I love you Hermione.” His final words echoed in the darkness. She was gone. He stood, watching
the place she had been for a long time, wondering why the tears wouldn’t come.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

September 19, 2005 – 7:42 PM

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Harry knelt next to the headstone, placing the single rose on the well-tended plot of grass. He
had come here every year on this day, even though there was no body beneath the ground. It was one
way to cope with her loss, to have a place he could associate with her.

The past three months had been some of the hardest of Harry’s life. After spending the last
seven years as a recluse, trying to join the rest of the world had been a difficult process. He was
amazed at how his friends had accepted him back and been supportive of him throughout the ordeal.
It would be a long time before things became normal again – at least as normal as they could be
with her gone. But he was trying.

It was a crisp September evening, and a soft wind rustled the leaves of the trees in the
cemetery. Harry looked at the marble headstone, hand gently resting on its top.

“I know you can hear me. I miss you. Every day it’s an effort to get up and keep going. I’m
trying, Hermione. But it’s so hard. I love you. Happy Birthday.” He wearily rose to his feet, hand
caressing the smooth marble beneath his fingers. With a sigh, he turned to go.

“Harry?”

He froze in mid-step, mouth suddenly dry. Over the many years since she had disappeared, Harry
had heard her voice countless times. He had even been sure he’d seen her before – but every time it
had turned out to be nothing more than his memories, come to haunt him in the waking world. But
this time, the voice sounded so loud, so clear………

Slowly he turned around, and all the strength left his legs in a rush. Stumbling to his knees,
Harry could only stare at the figure in front of him; waiting for it to vanish as it had every
other time he’d seen it while awake. She wasn’t going away. She was really there.

She was dressed plainly, in jeans and a light blouse. The breeze blew her long hair so that it
danced about her face. The brown eyes that tormented him nightly in his dreams were looking
straight at him. He saw a tear make its way slowly down her cheek, and then all thought fled as she
held her arms out to him.

Harry would never remember how he got from kneeling on the grass to standing and holding her
tightly in his arms. He could hear himself weeping loudly as he picked her up and spun her about,
laughing through his tears. She was really here. Hermione was with him…but how?

He stared at her in wonder as he set her down. Wordlessly she picked up his hand and guided it
to her midsection, where he felt a slight swelling. His head snapped up to look at her and she
smiled the beautiful smile that had captured his heart half a lifetime ago. If he had any remaining
doubts that this was really Hermione, they fled in the face of that radiant smile.

“The enchantment wasn’t strong enough to hold two souls in purgatory,” she whispered. “I am
free, and so is our child.”

Words escaped him as he looked at her. There were a million things he was feeling, a million
things he wanted to say to her. They all became irrelevant as he took her in his arms and his lips
pressed against hers. He trembled as the realization sunk in – it was over. All the pain, all the
misery was finally over. Hermione was free. HE was free.

In a small cemetery on the outskirts of London, two people kissed, their arms around each other
and their joyous laughter ringing in the evening air. Staring into the eyes of the only woman he
would ever love, Harry Potter smiled. The nightmare was over. He was whole again.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Epilogue: July 31st, 2006

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

It was a beautiful day for a picnic. There was a slight wind coming off the lake, and as it was
the middle of summer break the grounds were mostly deserted at Hogworts School of Witchcraft and
Wizardry. Harry watched as Hermione packed up the leavings of their lunch. She seemed to grow more
beautiful every day. She would often catch him staring at her, and today was no exception. Her
hands playfully swatted at him as she blushed.

“What are you staring at?”

“You. You’re beautiful.” He grinned as her blush deepened.

“And you, sir, are biased.”

“I doubt that. Anyone who cares to look can see I am married to the most beautiful witch alive.”
He held up his left hand, where the golden band encircled his ring finger. “And you’re mine. ALL
mine.” His grin broadened.

Hermione threw her hands up in defeat, laughing. “Ok fine, you win – I am the most gorgeous
woman on the planet. Happy?”

“Yes. I adore winning.” He scooped her up into his arms and kissed her quite thoroughly. They
were both breathless by the time he released her.

“Oh you’re hopeless,” she said affectionately. “Be careful when you bring her. I’d hate to wake
her up.” She turned and began to walk towards Hogsmeade, where they would apparate back home.

Harry picked up the infant peacefully sleeping in her baby carrier in one arm and walked a few
steps to the willow where years before, he had professed his love to his wife for the first time.
Grinning, he pointed his wand at the base of the tree. Letters began to appear, carved into the
wood of the trunk.

**H.P. and H.G Forever**

“One day when you’re older I’ll bring you back here and explain everything to you,” he promised
to the sleeping baby in his arms. Harry stepped a few feet to his right and stared straight ahead,
addressing the air in front of him.

“Meet my daughter,” he said softly. “Lily Ann Potter. She has her mother’s eyes, don’t you
think? She is quite a miracle. And you couldn’t stop her from coming to be. I won’t think of you
again after this. You can’t hurt us anymore.”

Harry turned and walked slowly after his wife. He smiled the entire way.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Author’s Notes: Whew! This story grew greatly in the telling. The idea came to me at work – what
would Harry do if Hermione died? Things kind of branched out from there. I sincerely hope things
didn’t seem too disjointed. Thanks to my beta Sarahkitty, and to everyone who has reviewed my
writing. Whether you enjoyed this story or hated it, please leave me a review and let me know what
you thought of it. Thanks!



