More Important Things | By : twitchelittleferret Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 15269 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Broken
You want the greatest thing
The greatest thing since bread came sliced.
You've got it all, you've got it sized.
Like a Friday fashion show teenager
Freezing in the corner
Trying to look like you don't try.
That's sugarcane that tasted good.
That's cinnamon, that's Hollywood.
C'mon, c'mon no one can see you try.
No one can see you cry.
That sugar cane that tasted good.
That freezing rain, that's what you could.
C'mon, c'mon on no one can see you cry.
(Imitation of Life-R.E.M.)
~*~
“Are you going to stand there all night or have you lost your
ability to communicate with your friends altogether?” she asked, looking up
from her book.
Harry had given himself away purposely by standing in the doorway
in her peripheral. He knew he was on shaky ground with her and that her comment
was at least an invitation for conversation. He walked toward the fireplace and
stood in front of her.
“I forgot you could pack a punch,” he said quietly. Hermione
narrowed her eyes and looked down at the fire.
“We've been your friends through thick and thin. For years we've
stuck by your side, we deserve a lot better than you sneaking behind our
backs,” she hissed through her teeth. “I'm not like your girlfriend, I'm not
going to wait by the sidelines until this war is over.” She got up angrily from
the chair.
Harry dropped his arms. “Oh come on, Hermione.”
“What?” she whirled on him.
“I'm not expecting you and Ron to wait for me. I need you guys,
really I do. But I don't want to put anyone else in any danger!”
“How can you stand there and tell me this? How can it be okay for
us to be safe while you are putting your life on the line?”
“My life has been on the line since that damned prophecy,” he shot
back.
“I'm not going back,” she crossed her arms and plopped down onto a
chair. Harry walked over to her and knelt down in front of her.
“Hermione, please,” he said softly. “You have worked so hard for
that badge. Don't tell me that there wasn't a thought of remorse that went
through your head when you held it in your hands.”
She looked down at him, her face softening. “There are more
important things in this life than stupid badges and titles,” she said.
“I have to admit I have a bit of an ulterior motive for asking you
to return to Hogwarts,” he said. “The library.”
“Oh, you've got to be joking,” Hermione said exasperatedly.
“No, Hermione, really,” he insisted and she saw that his face was
completely serious. “Hogwarts has the best library on wizardry and no one knows
it better than you.”
“Harry, if this is flattery, I'll pass on it.”
“You wanted to do the research, what better place to do it?”
“I can get into Hogwarts anyway,” she retorted.
“Not without being a student,” Harry insisted, although he wasn't
entirely sure.
“McGonagall would surely let me visit--.”
“Not without raising some suspicion as to what we are up to,”
Harry interrupted her. “Hermione, not everyone returning to Hogwarts is going
to be on our side. You don't think Voldemort won't have his spies in there?”
A troubled look flickered over her face as she remembered Draco
and Snape last year. “Why send me and Ron? There are others who are completely
loyal. You heard Lupin, the Order will be there as well as the aurors.”
“But you two are the only ones I completely trust.”
“Then come back with us!” she insisted.
Harry looked away. “Hermione, I can't. That place…you have no idea
how much that place meant to me. But I can't go back there. It's just too
painful.”
“Oh, Harry.” She reached out and caressed his cheek and Harry
closed his eyes to revel in her touch. He leaned toward her and opened his
eyes, leveling his intense gaze filled with desire on her. He placed a hand on
the armrests on either side of her, pinning her to the chair as he leaned in
for a kiss.
But Hermione quickly stood. “I can't do this right now, Harry.”
Harry stayed where he was for a moment before getting to his feet
and turning to face her. She was standing by the fireplace, one hand on the
mantle. She looked up at him, a pained look on her face.
“Is it…is it because of Ron?” he asked, fearing her answer.
“Yes,” she said softly. “And because of Ginny.” Harry nodded
solemnly. “I didn't say anything to Ron,” she continued. “You didn't either.”
Harry's eyes avoided her face. “I didn't know how he would react.”
“And Ginny?” she asked.
Harry closed his eyes and sighed. “Things are just so confusing
right now.”
“Believe me, I know,” she said softly.
Ron removed his extendable ear from underneath the door and
gathered the string in his hands. He had heard enough and was already feeling
bad about spying on his friends. Why was he always so damned curious? It was
this same characteristic of his that landed him into trouble with the mirror.
But he just had to know what he friends were talking about. What had happened
between Harry and Hermione? His imagination could fill in a lot of blanks. He
and Hermione had broken things off at the wedding mutually, were these
stirrings of possessiveness over Hermione due to jealousy or something more
platonic? And Ginny, pining away at the burrow over Harry? Ron couldn't help
the anger that began to blossom within him toward Harry. After all, wasn't he
supposed to be with Ginny in the end? How could he break his little sister's
heart? And Hermione? What was he playing at with her?
He threw himself on his bed, willing his anger toward Harry to
subside. There was the sound of a door closing followed shortly by another. He
guessed Harry and Hermione finally turned in.
~*~
“Are you alright?” Harry asked, looking over at Ron he was pushing
his eggs around his plate.
“Fine,” he answered simply.
Harry looked over at Hermione who shrugged then took a sip of her
coffee.
“I'll send an owl later to check on you all,” Molly said as she
put on her traveling cloak. It was her last day here at Grimmauld Place and she
was returning to the Burrow. “Please take care of yourselves,” she hugged each
of the three of them, giving her son a kiss on the top of his head.
When the three of them were finally left alone, Harry turned to
his two friends. “I'm thinking of going to Godric's Hollow today. Lupin gave me
directions and I was wondering if you two would come with.”
“Of course we will,” Hermione said immediately. Ron looked up at
him and nodded as well.
“Excellent. We'll leave after breakfast then?” Harry asked.
It was a quiet neighborhood. The houses were quaint with large
green grassy lawns and tall trees with full green canopies. White picket fences
marked the perimeter of some lawns, green hedges others.
“So where is it?” Ron asked in a hushed voice.
“Right over…here,” Harry said, standing in front of a grassy green
space filled with trees between two houses.
“It's unplottable,” Hermione gasped. “Of course.”
“Only until I claim it,” Harry said, taking out a scroll of
parchment and reading the very first line of it. “The deed and the property of
Godric's Hollow belong under the ownership of Harry James Potter.”
As soon as he finished the sentence, a beautiful two-storied home
painted white with green shutters and a thatched roof appeared in front of
them. The white picket fence needed repairing and the front lawn was in
disrepair. The shutters were closed and faded as well as the white paint on the
outside and the roof had spots missing from it. Nearly sixteen years of neglect
shown on the property.
“Well,” Ron said after taking it in. “Welcome home, mate.” He
slapped Harry on the shoulder.
Hermione loved it the instant she saw it. “We certainly have our
work cut out for us.”
Harry grinned and walked forward toward his childhood home. He
opened the gate (it fell off) and walked through.
As they walked through the front door, they walked into a large
living room filled with furniture that had covers on them. A layer of sixteen
years of dust covered everything as well as broken and dusty cobwebs. Ron
recoiled slightly at the sight of these. Hermione went to the window and,
struggling, managed to lift it and opened the shutters letting light penetrate
the dusty darkness.
Harry walked around the living room then moved into what he
assumed was the dining room because of the large table that seated ten people.
Ron Was Here
Ron wiped his dusty finger on his jeans after leaving a mark on
the dust covered table. Dark mahogany wood shone through his writing. Hermione
peered into the china cabinet, wiping away some dirt and grime from the glass
window of the hutch.
Together they walked into the kitchen. A rectangular shaped room
with horrible counter tops and appliances that were, Harry guessed, sixteen
years old or older. Ron eyed them with interest. There was a window over the
sink that looked into the backyard and Harry imagined his mother standing there
doing the dishes while his father and him played in the yard. It was a painful
daydream.
“Don't!” Harry said sharply to Hermione as she touched the handle
of one of the cabinets. “We don't know what's in there,” he said more softly.
“The last thing we need is a boggart to appear,” he said pointedly to her,
remembering the form of her boggart. Hermione brought her hand back, rapidly,
to her side.
There was a drawing room downstairs as well as, to Hermione's
delight, a study/library room. Nervous anticipation filled Harry as he made his
way upstairs with his friends. There were a couple more bathrooms up here as
well as some rooms that could be used for bedrooms. As they opened the French
doors at the end of the hall, they revealed a large room with a large
four-poster bed in the middle of it.
“This must have been your parent's bedroom, Harry,” Hermione said
softly as they stepped into it.
Harry's finger traced the intricate woodwork on the bedposts. He
didn't know how old the bed was but he figured it must have been in his family
for generations. His finger ran over the image of a lion's head carved into it.
There was a large canvas cloth covering the mattress and a strange image
suddenly came to his mind.
A beautiful young woman with green eyes like his own was
looking down at him. The bright sunlight highlighted her long red hair. She was
laying on her side, the comforting smell of her filled his nostrils and soothed
him. She was singing to him. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…”
The image faded away and Harry blinked his moist eyes.
“Are you alright?” Ron asked. He was looking at him with concern
in his eyes.
Harry nodded. It must have been a memory of his mother singing to
him when he was a baby though why he could remember it was a mystery to him.
Again, Hermione opened the windows, letting sunshine shine into the room.
They left it and walked down to the next room, Harry's hand paused
at the handle.
“I think this was my room,” he said softly. The concept of it was
too foreign to him, for as long as he could remember he never really had a room
of his own. The room he had at the Dursley's wasn't really his in the way it
was supposed to be.
Hermione's comforting touch on his shoulder gave him the strength
he needed to turn the knob. The first thing he saw was his crib.
The hooded figure loomed above him over the crib rails. He was
pointing something at him. Where was mummy?
“AVADA KEDAVRA!” came a cold, high-pitched voice.
Then there was a bright green light and pain, pain like he had
never known seared through him.
“NO!” Harry cried out and slammed the door shut, one hand clutched
to his scar on his forehead.
“Harry!” Hermione screamed as he sank to the floor.
“Harry, is it him? Is it You-Know-Who?” Ron asked.
Tears streamed down Harry's face. “I can't,” he gasped. “I can't
go in there.”
“Okay, we're done here,” Hermione said, cradling Harry to her.
“We're going back to Grimmauld Place.”
~*~
Ron set the tray of food down next to Harry's bed. He didn't know
if he was going to eat it or not, he was just lying there staring into nothing.
He sighed and turned away from his sad and depressed friend. Hermione was
standing in the doorway looking worried. Ron stepped out of the room and closed
the door behind him. In silence, they made their way back downstairs to the
kitchen.
“It was a stupid idea to let him go back there,” Hermione said as
she sat down.
Ron took a seat across from her. “He would've gone. It was
inevitable. He needed to see his childhood home.”
Hermione sighed as she rested her elbows on the table and sank her
head into her hands.
When night fell and Ron and Hermione had long gone to bed, Harry
waited ten minutes from when he heard Lupin and Tonk's bedroom door close
before sliding out of his bed. He grabbed his broom and opened the door a
crack.
All was silent.
He slipped out of bed and tiptoed down the hall, down the stairs
and to the garden where he took off on his broom. He needed to return to
Godric's Hollow.
Hermione watched him from her bedroom window and quickly put on
her shoes and a warm sweater before she snuck out of her room to follow Harry.
Harry set down on a shadowy part of the street and walked to his
home.
“Lumos,” he whispered when he entered the dark abode. The house
was still unplottable to those that weren't shown the secret to get to it so
Harry had no fear of intrusion. But he still didn't want anything lurking in
the shadows to jump out at him.
Bravely, he made his way upstairs and down the hall, pausing once
again outside of his room. He took a deep breath to summon his courage and opened
the door.
His eyes, once again, fell on the crib. It was wooden and dusty,
the mattress long gone. Under a canvas cloth was the shape of what he assumed
was a dresser. Another had the silhouette of a rocker and there was a shorter
dresser that he assumed might have been a changing table. A rectangular shaped
box grabbed his attention and Harry carefully pulled the canvas drape off of it
revealing a wooden toy chest, painted in primary colors. With his wand at the
ready for anything that might come out of there, he flung open the lid.
Nothing happened. And he peered into to see a collection of toys.
His toys. He sat down on his heels and took out a brown teddy bear. It looked
worn with love and Harry held it up to his nose. It smelled faintly of something
familiar and comforting in his past. Gingerly, he set the bear aside and
reached in the chest again feeling a set of wooden blocks.
H A R R Y
He spelled out his name with them, arranging them on the floor in
front of him.
“No! Not Harry! Please not Harry!” his mother pleaded. “Kill me
instead!”
“Step aside, silly girl!” the high-pitched voice said.
“No, please!”
“Avada Kedavra!”
There was a jet of green light that hit his mother and she fell
with a thud, lifeless on the floor. Harry was standing in his crib, holding on
to the rails as he watched his mother on the floor. He then looked up at the
robed figure that was still in the room. He let go of the rail and plopped onto
his mattress, scooting to the far side of the crib as the figure approached him.
He cried out in anguish, letting the tears fall down his face. He
picked up his old teddy bear and held it to him as he drew in his knees to his
chest and rocked back in forth. A pair of arms wrapped around him and enveloped
him into a hug. Harry settled himself into her comforting embrace, letting her
scent and warmth soothe him as he cried. She wouldn't care if he cried, she
wouldn't judge him.
“It's okay, Harry,” Hermione whispered and kissed the top of his
head. She sat back on her heels and cradled him in her arms. “It's okay.”
Surrounded by the childhood that was stolen from him, Hermione
began to comprehend the sorrow he must be feeling. Well, not fully comprehend
it, because she couldn't imagine how horrible it must have been to have it
taken away but she could now begin to understand the motives behind why Harry
did many of the things he did. The boy, the young man, her best friend that she
held in her arms, meant so much to her that she couldn't even begin to describe
it. What lengths would she go to protect something so valuable to her in this
life when everything she loved had been so easily taken away from her? Would
she do the same thing Harry did and send him away where he would be safe?
“Okay, Harry,” she whispered into his hair on the top of his head.
She kissed him there softly. “I'll go back to Hogwarts.”
*
Harry flew them back to Grimmauld Place in silence some time
later. They touched down in the garden and Hermione got off his broom. She
looked at him and smiled softly, taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze
before letting go.
But Harry, didn't let her. He still held on to her hand, still
feeling a little lost. She led him quietly back into the house and back up the
stairs to his room. She stopped outside his door and turned to look at him. He
brushed a stray strand of hair away with his fingers and tucked it behind her
ear. He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, brushing his tongue
against her lips, asking for entrance. She complied and brought her hand to the
back of his neck, pressing them closer together, the Firebolt trapped between
them.
Harry reached behind her and opened his door, bringing her into
his room, spinning her around and pressing her against the door, closing it
shut. Hermione took one foot to her other heel, giving her leverage to take the
shoe off, repeating the other action on the other foot as Harry lifted her
sweater over her head. She reached around and undid her bra, sliding the straps
down her arms. Her skin was warm and soft beneath his fingers and he slid them
over her, cupping the soft mounds of her breasts. She took the bottom of his
shirt in her hands and tugged it over his head, his glasses catching in the
action and getting lost in the garment as it fell to the floor. His arms wrapped
around her, bringing her to him, holding her close against his skin.
She wrapped her thighs around his waist as he lifted her against
the wall, holding her bottom as she fumbled with the front of his jeans. She
unzipped him and reached to wrap her hands around his hard length, eliciting a
low groan from him. She removed her hand and reached around him, sliding his
wand from his back pocket. Harry set her down gently, taking the wand from her
hand as she undid her jeans. He helped her tug them down as he waved the wand
over her abdomen, casting the contraception charm. He dropped it to the floor
and stepped out of his jeans, leading her back to his bed.
She slid underneath the covers, pulling him to follow her as he
moved between her parted knees. He placed one hand beside her, the other on the
sheet as he covered the two of them. She had one arm wrapped around his neck,
the other on his arm as he lowered her on the bed. He entered her wet heat in
one swift motion, bringing them together once again as one. Hermione lifted her
hips to meet him in his gentle and rhythmic thrusts. Their dance was a sensual
one filled with her soft sighs, a shared heated kiss, his moans of pleasure. A
soft caress of her hands here, his gentle touch there, a tangle of limbs that slid
over one another. He would press into her and she would lift to meet him, then
he would pull away from her only to fall into her again, an action that
mimicked the ebb and flow of waves crashing onto the shore.
She let out a soft cry as her pleasure exploded from within,
bringing Harry with her as they both tumbled over the edge of the abyss. Both
of them hot and breathing hard as he lay above her, his weight pressing onto
her but not completely. He left her warmth, pulling himself out to lay by her side.
She rolled to face him, tucking the sheet under her arms, the evidence of their
lovemaking was sticky on her inner thighs. He reached for her, placing a hand
on her hip. He moved closer to her and she snuggled against his chest,
listening to his heartbeat slow itself down and his breathing became soft and
rhythmic.
“I'm not going to wait for you,” she whispered softly, thinking he
was asleep.
“I wouldn't ask you to,” he answered her quietly. And he reached
down and tilted her chin up to him so he could kiss her lips. He rolled her on
her back once again, moving the sheet aside as he settled himself between her
parted thighs.
~*~
It was thirst that woke Ron up and bleary eyed he got out of bed
and trudged downstairs to the kitchen. Letting the cool liquid slide down his
throat, he set the empty glass down and turned out the light in the kitchen.
He froze suddenly when he heard a noise, his senses went on high
alert. He quietly opened the door and peered out into the hall. There was
nothing there but a soft shuffling coming from upstairs. He tiptoed up the
stairs and froze when he saw two figures standing outside of Harry's door.
Moving slowly up the stairs to get a better look, he saw that it was Harry and
Hermione standing there.
Then to his complete and absolute shock, Harry leaned down and
kissed her!
Ron was so stunned by this action that it seemed forever to
process this action and when it finally did, the door to Harry's room closed,
presumably with both of them on the other side.
He stood there fuming, unsure of what to do, how to act. He went
to his room, closed the door and sat on his bed. How could they do this to him?
Shouldn't they have said something to him? Is this what they were keeping from
him? When did this happen? Did it happen while he was lying in bed…with
Voldemort stuck in his fucking head?!
He angrily sprang to his feet and yanked open his door. He was
going to have a few things to say to those two. He went up the stairs, past
Hermione's room, straight to Harry's. He paused outside of his door to gather
his thoughts turned the knob and slowly opened the door.
He closed it just as quickly.
His insides felt as if they were filled with lead and he found it
suddenly hard to breathe. Numbly, he turned and walked back downstairs and into
his room. He lay down on his bed and screwed his eyes shut. His hands turned
into fists and he slammed them hard on either side of him.
“Dammit Harry!” he cursed, wishing he could sear the image from
his mind. The image of Harry's bare back, sheets falling to his waist, the
silhouette of Hermione's knees underneath and her hand splayed upon his back as
he moved above her.
~*~
“I don't even have a complete lesson plan. What am I going to do?
I've never spoken to a large crowd before! What if they all hate me?” Tonks was
shooting her questions off rapidly.
“Love, I'm sure you'll do just splendidly,” Lupin reassured her.
Harry added a reassuring smile. “Just be wary of the Slytherins.”
“Harry that isn't appropriate. Not all Slytherins are bad people,”
Lupin admonished.
“Can you name one?” Harry answered bitterly. “Draco isn't exactly
a ray of sunshine and I believe you had Snape in your year?” Lupin scowled at
him. “I rest my case,” Harry shrugged carelessly.
Ron had been quiet all morning, again his appetite wasn't what it
usually was and Harry noticed this. He was worried about his friend, maybe he
should ask Lupin to send for Madame Pomfrey to examine Ron again.
“Are you going to go back to Godric's Hollow today?” Lupin asked
Harry.
“Yeah, probably after Hermione gets back from the Burrow. She left
this morning to get Mrs. Weasley's housekeeping books and pick up some crates
of doxycide,” Harry explained after taking a sip of orange juice.
“I'm surprised she got up so early this morning,” Ron said as he
pushed the eggs around on his plate. Harry looked up sharply at his friend's
comment, the fork in his hand suspended in air in its journey to his mouth.
“What do you mean?” Tonks asked
“I don't know. Ask Harry,” Ron replied. Harry set down his fork
with a clatter and stared across the table at his friend.
“What's that supposed to mean?” he asked him.
“Hey guys, take it easy,” Tonks said, looking between the two of
them.
“Nymphadora, I think we should leave,” Lupin said, getting the
gist of the argument.
“Is there's something you want to say, Ron?” Harry asked angrily.
“Funny question coming from you,” Ron retorted.
Lupin and Tonks rose from the table. “We're just going to…” They
quickly left the kitchen, leaving the two teens alone.
“When were you going to tell me you're fucking Hermione?” Ron spat
out.
Harry was completely taken aback. He didn't think that was what he
was talking about, he thought Ron had known that he and Hermione had snuck out
and gone to Godric's Hollow.
“W-what?” Harry spluttered.
“When did this happen?” Ron demanded. “Was last night the first
time? Was it before then? Did it happen when I was lying there with
You-Know-Who stuck in my fucking head?!” Ron shot up out of his seat and kicked
the chair.
“We didn't mean for it to happen,” Harry said quickly.
Ron just gaped at him. “What?! Are you telling me that this was an
accident? That you just…tripped and fell into her?”
“No! Ron…,” Harry ran a frustrated hand through his hair.
“How long, Harry?” Ron accused. “How long did you wait after I was
out before you jumped on my girlfriend?”
“If I can recall, you two broke up at the Burrow,” Harry said
coldly.
Ron narrowed his eyes. “Well, that just makes it perfect for you
then.”
“Oh, shut up, Ron!” Harry interrupted but Ron continued on.
“Hermione and I break up, I'm holed up with a psycho wizard stuck
in my head, it's just the perfect time for you to step in and sweep her off her
feet.”
“That's not what happened,” Harry said icily.
“Isn't it? Having me back has just put a little crimp in your
happy little world with your girlfr--.”
“She's not my girlfriend,” Harry interrupted him.
Ron just stared at him. “Not your…Harry…this is Hermione…”
“You think I don't know that, Ron?” Harry said angrily. “You don't
think I think about that all the time? No one cares about her more than I-we,
we do,” he quickly corrected himself.
“And Ginny?”
Harry sighed.
“You can't have them both, Harry,” Ron said solemnly.
“I know that Ron.”
Ron looked at him and said nothing for a long time. Finally, he
walked over to the table and placed both hands on the back of a chair. “I'm
your best friend, Harry. I always will be.” His gaze moved from the scorch mark
on the table to his friend's emerald green eyes. “But I can't stand by and
watch you hurt the two girls whom I care about more than anything. I won't let
you.” With that, he left the kitchen and Harry to his own thoughts.
~*~
The rest of the summer days were spent cleaning Godric's Hollow,
battling doxies and boggarts. Hermione had noticed a certain distance between
Ron and Harry but said nothing about it. They still joked around with each
other but there was always an undercurrent of…something. At the end of the day,
they returned to Grimmauld Place, keeping each other company by the fire in the
drawing room. Hermione read while Harry and Ron played wizard's chess. She was
usually the first to turn in, leaving Harry and Ron alone with each other in a
silent battle of wills before Ron would finally give in and drag his sleepy
self to bed.
Every night, Harry had to pass Hermione's room to get to his and
it would take all the will he had not to stop and enter her room instead. His
room and bed were cold and empty, she could've joined him, anyway, if she
wanted. Sometimes, Harry would dream that she did, her warm body sliding next
to his, parting her thighs as he rolled over above her. These dreams would only
result in messy bedsheets and a hell of a next morning trying to block those
images from Aberforth's probing mind.
The morning of September the First was a solemn one, the weather
outside was dark and rainy, mirroring Harry's own demeanor. His door was open
but Lupin still knocked before entering, clearing Harry's thoughts.
“Are you sure you're making the right decision?” he asked.
“Yeah, I am,” Harry replied.
Lupin frowned slightly but still nodded. “Molly found this in your
trunk when she was cleaning your things. It was broken but I fixed it, it's
twin belonged to Sirius.” He held out a mirror and Harry was brought back to
Christmas during his fifth year when Sirius had given him this two-way mirror
as a way to communicate. The same mirror that he had forgotten to use when he
had that vision of Sirius in the Department of Mysteries. Harry winced slightly
at the memory.
“Perhaps you could use it now,” Lupin said.
“Ahem,” Ron's sound drew their attention to the door where he and
Hermione were standing. With a smile, Lupin left the room giving Ron and
Hermione words of encouragement and good luck.
“We're about ready to go,” Ron said quietly.
Harry got of the bed and walked to his friends. “Here,” he said to
Ron, holding out the mirror Lupin had given him. Hermione's eyes widened.
“Harry, is that…”
“You can use it to get a hold of me any time you need to,” he said
to them.
“Thanks mate,” Ron said.
“Use different owls when you write,” he said to Hermione. “I won't
send Hedwig, it's too dangerous.”
Hermione's face crumpled and she threw her arms around Harry. “I
wish you were coming with us,” she said in a broken voice. He sighed and slid
his arms around her, committing the warmth that she radiated to memory,
breathing in the shampoo scent from her hair. Something inside him shattered as
he held her.
“You know why I can't,” he whispered in her ear. He wanted to do
so much more to her, hold her tighter, kiss her tears, taste her mouth but he
was painfully aware of Ron's presence who was watching the two of them with an
odd expression on his face.
Harry broke the hug and turned to Ron. Hermione, upset and crying
turned and fled downstairs to wait by the front door.
“You're not going to hug me are you?” Ron asked wryly and Harry
laughed.
“No just…take care, alright?” he said.
“You too, Harry. And…please be careful?” he said after an awkward
pause. Harry nodded and Ron turned away. Suddenly, Harry stepped out onto the
landing to stop his friend.
“Hey, Ron?” he paused, his red-haired best friend looked up at
him. Harry glanced over his shoulder, just slightly in the direction that
Hermione had went. He felt so awkward he didn't know how to say what he was
feeling.
Ron nodded. “I will, Harry. I'll make sure she's safe.”
As Ron and Hermione hauled their trunks out of the front door into
the drizzling rain, Harry watched them from a tall window of the drawing room.
The house instantly felt so empty. He felt empty and hollow. His breath
condensed on the cold glass, fogging it up, blurring the images of his two
friends as they walked across the yard. His hand rose to the glass and Harry
touched a finger to Hermione's image in the distance, tracing it in the glass
until she disappeared with a soft pop.
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