Second Chances

Hermione rested her head against the glass of the window, her breath causing a foggy patch to appear and disappear as it evaporated. The manor was in absolute silence, eerie really but she wasn’t fazed. There were far scarier things out there than just a creaky old house. She rolled her forehead over the cold pane, exhaling at the lovely cooling effect it had on her.

She’d felt overly warm for a couple of days now, like she was wearing a large jacket indoors. A popping sound told her Binky had appeared in the room, “Begging your pardon, there’s a letter here for you Miss… Hermione.”

“Thanks,” Hermione said, smiling at the fact that Binky had finally picked up the habit of using her name, or almost anyway. She took the letter from the house elf’s outstretched hand. She looked at the handwriting on the front, recognising it at once. She drew in a sharp breath.

“Lunch is in the dining room when you’re ready,” Binky said, bowing low and disappearing with a pop.

Hermione hadn’t taken her eyes off the envelope. With trembling hands she slowly pulled it open and slid out the parchment inside. Her eyes fogging as she read,

‘Dear Hermione,

I’m writing to tell you I’m safe although I don’t know why you’d care. I know now that I was behaving like a total and utter bastard. I’m staying at a wizarding retreat in Naples. I think it’s helping.

I spend most of my time reading, walking on the beech and generally thinking about my life and how it was. I don’t want it to be that way anymore. I can’t even remember what it was like to feel like a whole person. I’ve been speaking to the head counsellor here a lot and we’re working through things. I won’t bore you with the details but know that I’m healing.

I’ve wished a thousand times that I could take everything back. What we did, the damage I must have done to Barty and most of all the way I treated Ginny. I truly love her but it took loosing her for me to see it. When it all comes down to it I am my own worst enemy. I do more damage to my life and myself then Voldemort ever could have.

I’ve written to her, telling her as much but I doubt she’ll reply. I don’t deserve her to listen to me never mind think of forgiving me. All I can hope is I haven’t put her off love. I hope you and Barty are happy. I read about your wedding in the Daily Prophet. You looked so happy together. He’s a lucky man and I say that as your friend. I hope that you can still consider me as that. It says in the article that Barty’s working for the Aurors office. That’s good news, I think he’ll be a great asset to them. I didn’t give the man a chance.

I don’t know when I’ll be back, when I feel ready I suppose. I don’t feel that way yet. I get a bit impatient with myself at times. It’s been six months and I’m still unsure of myself. I’ll finish this letter now but I hope to hear from you. I know I don’t deserve such a generous gesture but I still hope you can forgive me all I did.

Harry.’

Hermione looked at the parchment, her head bubbling with a thousand thoughts. All that time she’d been wondering where Harry was, doubting he was getting help and here was the proof. She felt like a traitor.

“Do you know I could murder a cup of tea,” The voice came from the doorway and Hermione jumped off the window seat, the letter floating to the floor at her feet. Barty moved forward quickly taking in the paleness of her face, “Hermione?”

“I think I need to lie down for a-” Her sentence finished partway through as she began to teeter on her feet. Barty darted to her in time to catch her before she fell though she lay limp in his arms.

“Hermione?” He whispered, brushing her hair out of face and cupping her cheek, “Come on,” He crouched before getting an arm under her knees and pulling her up against him.

“Binky!” He yelled, as he made his way through the corridors. She appeared beside him, running to keep up, “Fetch a doctor and do it fast.”

“Yes sir,” she squeaked, disappearing with another pop. He found his way into their bedroom and laid her on the bed, pulling the comforter up and over her. Taking her wrist between his fingers and checked her heart rate, finding it around normal if not a little slow.

A pop sounded, “He’s on his way, Master, he’ll be here any moment.”

“Good,” Barty replied, his hand absentmindedly stroking Hermione’s hair.

“Sir, what the matter with Mistress?” Binky asked, her big eyes watery. “She’s not gonna die is she?”

“No,” Barty snapped before he caught himself, “Sorry, no she’s not. She’s fainted.”

“Was it to do with that letter that Binky gave her?” She asked.

“What letter?” Barty asked, causing Binky to disappear with a pop. At that moment the doctor arrived, sweeping into the room with his cloak billowing.

“Now then, what seems to be the trouble? I don’t often get irate house elves calling on me.”