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Rapture	By : DMenchanted Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 14172 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of th chacters from it, nor am I making any money by writing this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Rapture
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Chapter 1: Intervention
Hermione paced the hallway in front of the door to the Department of Mysteries. She had been waiting for Harry for almost two hours now and there was still no sign of him. She sighed loudly, wondering to herself for the hundreth time if this plan of hers was a good idea. Hermione glanced down to check her watch and noticed her hands, they were covered in ink, which wasn‘t unusual, but they were worse off than normal. She was slightly appalled to see that she had bitten off almost all of her nails in the past few days. Harry was going to pay for the best magical manicure his galleons could buy when this whole ordeal was over.
It had taken her awhile to see how bad he had gotten. Perhaps she had been too busy with her own work? Whatever the reason, it wasn’t good enough. How could she not have noticed how withdrawn Harry had become? How he was always at work? How he started missing their dinner dates and “friend nights” with more and more frequency? Hermione closed her eyes and tried to think how she could have been so dumb. Memories came rushing back to her in a flurry.
Harry had defeated Voldemort and the wizarding world was saved, then everything after that seemed to happen so fast. They had all buried their loved ones and friends who had been lost in the battle. It was a rough time, especially for the Weasley family. But everyone had bonded together and helped get each other through it all. Although, in retrospect, Hermione wondered if Harry had really and truly gotten over all of the loss of life he had witnessed. She knew that for a long time he had blamed himself for each and every death. She had had to finally sit him down face to face and drill into his head that he was not responsible for what Voldemort, or his vicious followers, had done to people. He had finally seemed to accept the fact that he wasn’t to blame. Now she wondered if he had just said so to get her to stop nagging at him.
On a more positive note, each of them had been awarded an Order of Merlin for their part in the Light’s success. And, as if that wasn’t enough, Headmistress McGonagall had even granted them their graduation notices stating that “due to special circumstances, their final year would be considered completed” and that their “above par skills and knowledge on and off the battle field, most especially pertaining to locating and destroying the horcruxes, was sufficient enough evidence to consider their Newt exams completed”. She would be lying if she didn’t admit she felt slightly cheated at not getting to actually sit her exams, but Harry and Ron had been thrilled to bits.
Once the wizarding community found out that the Golden Trio didn’t have to go back to school, job offers came owling in from every corner of the planet. Ron had offers from the Ministry to become an Auror but he opted to take the position offered to him on the Chuddley Canons quidditch team. Taking the team spot meant that Ron was going to be away, a lot. And he was going to have hundreds of thousands of girls falling all over him. Hermione knew they wouldn’t have time for each other, especially not with the position she had been offered, so their romance ended before it ever began. Looking back now, Hermione saw it was best for both of them. And after all, it was his dream come true to play professional Quidditch, he had said, and he didn’t want to live to regret it. How could Hermione blame him?
Hermione had received numerous offers from various reputable, and some not so reputable, institutions. One school had wanted her to come be the head librarian, while another wanted her to teach arithmancy. Still, another school, this one over in America, had wanted her to come and head a class on “The Advancement of Women Warriors in the Wizarding World”. While she knew that would be a fun class to teach, Hermione didn’t see any longevity in the position and so she turned it down. Head Mistress McGonagall had privately offered the position of Potions Professor to Hermione, a noble honor considering the shoes she would have to fill. Hermione had mulled over taking the spot- she loved potions and was exceptionally well at them, as her history had shown, but how could she ever try to replace Professor Snape? He had been a tragic hero, and was probably one of the singular biggest reasons as to why Harry was able to finally defeat Voldemort. How would he feel to have his classroom handed over to the Gryffindor Know It All? She could see him, face all scowled and his tone dry and disapproving, “Really Minerva, that’s the only person you could think of to follow in my footsteps? The Girl who turned herself into a cat?” She had thought on the situation for weeks until she had finally decided to take the job.
That is, until the Ministry sent her an owl. They were creating a new department, the Department of Magical Reconstruction, and they wanted her to head it. The department would be responsible for investigating and recording any and all damage done during the war. Then, having been granted a generous budget, they were to calculate the funds needed to replace and rebuild homes, shops, businesses, etc, including helping cover medical expenses for victims and their families. It was the ultimate way for Hermione to help people and she knew she couldn’t turn it down. Teaching potions would be entertaining, she would love to help mold bright young minds, but this job would allow her to reach out and assist so many more people. She could give families money for food, clothes, school supplies and medicines. She would be responsible for seeing that businesses received funds to renovate their stores and get the economy back on track. Hermione Granger was going to be able to use her brilliant mind to give back to the wizarding world and that was the most that she could ever ask for.
Harry had gotten the most offers out of all of them, but that was to be expected. He was offered various positions at the Ministry, a Seeker for the French National Quidditch team (they had sent him mounds of cheese to try and sway him), he had even been offered a position as a talk show host for a daytime television show. Harry hadn’t been sure what he wanted to do and was slightly overwhelmed at all of the offers. Day after day, week after week, and month after month, offers would come piling onto his doorstep, and even though he reviewed every single one, he couldn’t make up his mind. Hermione had made him a graph displaying his most beneficial proposals, but he refused to look at it, saying that he wanted to make his own choice. After almost two years of indecision, he started to pre-empt Hermione’s attempts at assistance. Every time he saw her he would say the same thing, “No, ‘Mione, I haven’t decided yet. And, no, I don‘t need another pie chart.” He knew, before she could even form the words, what she was going to say. It took Harry almost three years to finally gain employment, and she remembered how he broken the news to her. It had been almost two years to the day after Hermione had started working in her new department and Harry had come to meet her at work. They had plans to go out to dinner and she was running late, as usual. Her job, while gratifying, was incredibly time-consuming, and it was easy for her to get stuck in a stack of papers for hours on end.
He had knocked on her door a few times before she finally heard him and looked up. He had a small smile on his face and a glitter of gaiety in his emerald gaze , his chocolate brown hair was in it’s usual style of disarray, but the rest of him was neatly dressed for an evening out. He wore black slacks with a deep purple button up shirt and a thin silver and black striped tie. Harry looked as handsome as ever and she took a moment think how lucky she was to have him as a friend.

                    “I’m running late again, aren’t I?” she had asked. Harry just nodded his head as he leaned against her office door.

                    “No different than usual ‘Mione.” he replied. “I know that you lose all sense of time when you are working. When it got to be half past, I figured you would need a reminder that we have reservations. So, here I am.” he chuckled. Hermione smiled back at his cheek. She ignored his taunting and pushed herself back from her desk. After retrieving her wand and purse, the two had made their way to Chez la Victoire. It was a cute little French restaurant on the south side and it was one of Harry’s favorites, the two of them frequented it often on their “friend nights”.
“Friend nights” had been instituted , officially, about nine months ago when Ginny and Harry had split up for good. They had been dating ever since the war ended and everyone had been happy about it. They had seemed the perfect couple. But as time went on, Ginny started becoming more bossy and demanding. She wanted Harry to take her to more upscale restaurants, and wanted Harry to buy her shinier jewelry and finer clothes. She would whine constantly about how Harry had all this fame and money and was doing nothing with either. Why couldn’t he just spoil her like she deserved? Eventually, it all got to be too much and the two separated. Especially after the night that Harry came home to find Draco Malfoy in his bed with his girlfriend. The normally hot-tempered Harry had cast two well placed spells that had both culprits unable to use the bathroom for almost a week, before he had packed up all of Ginny’s things and owled them to Malfoy manor for her. Hermione had heard it through the grapevine that Ginny had turned to Malfoy because “he knew how to shower a lady with love, affection and galleons”. Three months after the fiasco, Ginny and Malfoy had broken up and she was back to living with her parents.
Hermione and Harry had often gotten together to hang out and catch up with each other over dinner or drinks, but after he became single and was still unemployed, ”friend nights” had been a life line for Harry, or so he had said. Harry confessed to her one night that he wasn’t sure what he would have done if Hermione hadn’t been there for him time after time.

       “And I don’t just mean in school either,” he had added, his green eyes sad and hurt. “I mean even now- with all this hassle with jobs and girls… I feel like I could lose myself sometimes. But then I think of you and I know you would kill me if I let some job or some girl get the best of the Boy Who Lived.“ he chuckled. “You’re the best friend any guy could ask for ‘Mione.” She had felt her heart warm at his words. Perhaps she should have caught the underlying warning in them as well. It was clear to her now that Harry still wasn’t over the war.
When they had finished eating that night, and were walking back to her flat, Harry broke the news to her.

       “So, I’ve decided on a job.” His words were so soft, Hermione barely heard them. She turned her head to him with a huge grin on her face.

       “Oh, Harry! That’s wonderful! Which one did you choose?”

He pushed his glasses up his nose, even though they hadn’t slid anywhere, and then shoved his hands into his pockets. Hermione could tell he was nervous, but she didn’t know why. Wasn’t he excited about the position he had chosen? After a few more moments of silence, Harry stopped walking and grabbed her arms, turning her to face him.

       “I don’t want you to be upset Hermione, just know that it’s something I have to do, okay?” His eyes were pleading with her to understand, but she didn’t know what it was that she was supposed to be understanding. She carefully and calmly pulled her arms out of his grasp.

       “Harry, I’m not sure that I follow....” she let her sentence hang in the air unfinished.

He sighed and ran a hand through his dark locks. “I’ve decided to accept the Ministry’s offer to become an Unspeakable.” The words rushed out of his mouth as if he had been scared he wouldn’t be able to finish his sentence. Hermione blinked at him. An Unspeakable? Why would she be mad about that? She didn’t even really know what Unspeakables did. She had an idea, but nothing that had ever been confirmed. Hermione felt a small rush of emotion. Perhaps it was jealousy? Fright? Pride? She ultimately decided it was a combination of all of the above. She was jealous that Harry was going to know something that she didn’t, and never would know- what an Unspeakable does. And she was worried for him. What is his job was too dangerous? Hadn’t he had enough danger for one lifetime? But, a larger part of her was proud of him. Not everyone got asked to be an Unspeakable. It was a true honor, and she told him so.

       “Harry, that’s amazing! That’s such an honor! I’m so excited for you!” She threw her arms around him in her merriment and she could feel the tension drain out of him. As she pulled back from the hug, she clucked her tongue at him. “Did you honestly think I would be mad at you for wanting to be an Unspeakable?” Harry’s gaze dropped to the ground in shame.

       “I didn’t know what you would think. I just didn’t want you to be upset that I chose a job I won’t be able to talk to you about. I won’t be able to discuss cases I’m working on or my day at work or anything else like you can.” He raised his eyes to meet hers. “I don’t want you to think I’m purposely trying to keep secrets from you to hurt you.” Hermione crossed her arms at his words. Sometimes he could be so infuriating.

       “Honestly, I can’t believe you think so little of me to believe I would entertain any of those thoughts in my head. I’m not daft Harry, I know that Unspeakables are aptly named because the can’t discuss what they do.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him to get him moving again. “And besides, I’ve got plenty to discuss when it comes to my job, I doubt you would have gotten a word in edgewise.” she teased. The two smiled at each other as they continued walking home. Harry had dropped her off at her flat before apparating to his own.
That had been three years ago. And now, here she was, waiting at the door of the Department of Mysteries to ambush her best friend. Her lost and severely sick best friend, she corrected herself. Somewhere along the way in his career, something had gotten into Harry. He had become more and more obsessed with death and Hermione feared for him. The past couple of months, when he had decided to show up to one of their “friend nights”, all he could think to converse about was after life and different religions beliefs on what happens when you die. At first Hermione was intrigued, it was nice to have someone to share intellectual conversations with, but Harry’s questions steadily grew more and more grandiose. It was almost as if he was seeking validation from her for theories. Hermione didn’t understand why, but she knew it had to be something to do with his work at the ministry. After all, part of the Department of Mysteries housed the Veil, the same room of death that had taken the life of Harry’s godfather. It had almost destroyed him as a child, Merlin only knew what facing it each day must be doing to him. He had stopped coming to visit her, stopped going to dinner. He spent all of his time at work- coworkers said that he sometimes went 48 hours straight before heading home for a nap. When she did see him, usually across the cafeteria as he refilled his coffee, or in the halls, he seemed pale, sickly thin and exhausted. He was no longer the Harry she knew. It was obvious he was obsessed with his work, whatever it was, and it was slowly killing him. She didn’t know what his job entailed, or if this death obsession had anything to do with his work at all, and she didn’t know how she was going to help him, but she knew she had to do something. And that was what she was doing now- it was 4 am and Hermione Granger was hoping to put her plan into action soon, before workers started showing up for the new day. As soon as Harry walked out that door, she was going to grab him, apparate him back to her flat, tie him down and have an intervention. At least, that’s what she hoped would happen.
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Rapture