Second Chances

Hermione stretched out in the bed, her hands reaching out in the darkness expecting to find Barty but they came up empty. She sat up slowly and saw him stood looking through her window into the back garden. She’d heard him crying out in his sleep, tormented by some nightmare that she would never understand because she had never seen the hell he had while trapped inside a Dementor.

She climbed up, pulling her kimono of the chair by the bed and wrapping it around her against the cold. She walked to him, slowly wrapping her arms around his waist. He tensed against her touch before she felt him relax, his arms uncrossing and covering hers.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” She asked, sounding playfully reprimanding.

“Woke up, couldn’t sleep.” He replied, turning and pulling her to him, ghosting kisses over her face. “You know how I feel about you, right?”

“Yes,” She said, smiling and cupping his face with one hand, “I’m in love with you too.”

“Do you understand what you’re saying Hermione?” He asked, moving her from the window to the bed, sitting down and pulling the covers over them. “What it will mean to love me?”

“I know what it is to love you,” She said, turning to face him, her eyes staring into his honest brown gaze, “Here,” She said, lifting his hand to her chest, “And here,” She replied, moving his hand to her head, “And if you know me as well as you seem to think you do you’ll know that it takes a lot for me to stop working out why not and let it be.”

He smiled, his hand holding her face, “You don’t see it,” His expression faltered for a second, “In the eyes of the world I’m a death eater, a man who partook in the torture of the Longbottom’s and a thousand other crimes that I am sickened to remember. I can’t forget them, they remain in my head, tormenting me forever. And I deserve no less. The world will only see that.”

He could see tears forming in her eyes, “Even if the ministry was to grant me absolution no one would accept it freely. They would all see it as a crime against justice itself. Could you handle living your life with such a man.”

A tear streaked down Hermione’s face as she looked at him, he was being totally honest with her, giving her the chance to back out now if she wanted to, she wouldn’t do that… ever. “Your not that man, your who you would have been if you’d never met Voldemort. A man I love,” He leaned in and kissed a tear from her cheek, “The man I want to spend my life with.”

“You can’t want that.” He replied, moving off the bed and away from her.

“I do,” she insisted, watching him, “Remember what you asked, ‘can I keep you?’ I’m yours, whatever you come up against, I come up against too.”

He glanced to the window before he turned back to her, she could see tears welling in his eyes too, “Come here.” He said, his voice hoarse.

She climbed up and ran into his arms, locking her hands behind his head. “Hermione,” He whispered against her neck, “I love you, I think I loved you the moment I saw you again, always remember that, I love you.”

“What?” She asked, not questioning his love but his phrasing. It sounded odd to her, out of place in a way.

“I’m going to have to leave,” He replied, his eyes closed against the tears that were fighting out of his eyes.

“Why? Where are you going?” She asked, letting go of his shoulders to turn his face to her.

“Look out of your window,” he said, simply, never opening his eyes.

Slowly she looked in the direction of her window and back at him before she slowly moved out of his arms. Reaching out a hand she twitched the net aside and looked out. Stood in her garden were a few men, all of whom she recognised as Aurors. Shoving the curtain back she looked at Barty.

“They’re here for me.” He said, his eyes finally meeting hers.

“No…” she whispered, her heart beating against her chest hard, she felt she would die of it.

“I’m going to hand myself over, no point in trying to get away.” He reached for his shirt and pulled it on, he began to button it up when Hermione ran at him, her arms going her his neck in a fierce embrace.

“They can’t have you!” She sobbed into his chest as he leant against the wall for support before sliding down to the ground holding her to him as fiercely as she was holding him. “We haven’t had enough time! We need to find out why you’re here, how! They can’t take you form me, they can’t!”

“I don’t want to go,” He said, his tears sounding in his voice, “I would give anything to stay here, with you forever. I want nothing more than to call you my friend, my lover and… my wife. For you to be the mother of my children. We may still get that.”

“But they might not let you go,” She cried, gripping his shirt with her fists, “They might keep you and I’d die Barty, they’d be killing me as sure as if they’d stabbed me through the heart. We have to do something, we have to get you away.”

“No,” He said, taking a deep breath, “That would truly put you in danger, I will not have that.”

“Promise me you’ll come back to me,” She said, pulling back and breathing in, looking into his eyes. “I need you to promise you’ll come back to me.”

“If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll come back to you.” He whispered, kissing her.

They heard the sound of shouts and a door being blasted down, Hermione jumped up and ran to the bedroom door. Locking it and placing a charm with wandless magic she stood against it, as though becoming part of the barricade. Looking into the room she saw Barty pulling on his shoes and his waist coat. Only half his buttons were done up and she sobbed at the sight. He should not be leaving this way. He should be waking in the morning beside her, she should get to cook breakfast wearing only his shirt and feed him toast in bed. This wasn’t right.

“Unlock the door Hermione!” The sound of Harry’s voice penetrated through the door as something banged on the other side. Hermione jumped away from the door and ran to Barty. She pulled him to her and kissed him with everything she had. The fire and passion of the night, the soft comfort of the prelude, the trust and love all went into the kiss and she held him to her.

The door crashed to floor but she refused to let him go, she tightened her grip on him and deepened the kiss. Hands were pulling on her and prying her away until she was dragged off him and tossed onto the floor.

“Don’t you dare hurt her!” She heard Barty say as he was pulled from the room and the sounds that followed told her that he was being punched.

She scrambled to her feet, making to chase him, “Leave him alone you bastards!”

“Hermione!” Harry called, grabbing her by her arms and pulling her back into the room. “Stop this right now, you’re in enough trouble for housing a known Death eater, do not make it worse!”

“He’s not a know Death eater! He’s a known dead man! He’s not who he was Harry! You have to stop them! He’s done nothing wrong since he came back.”

“No.” Harry replied simply and Hermione stopped struggling and looked at her friend.

She considered him for a moment before she took action, pulling her hand back she slapped around the face so hard that her wrist ached with the motion, “You absolute bastard! You brought them here for him, you alerted the ministry! What were you? Spying on me?”

“Yes I was,” He hissed, gripping her upper arm with such force that she cried out in pain, “Someone had to. Do you know how much danger you put yourself in being alone with him?”

“Far less then when I’m alone with you,” she spat back at him, twisting out his grip painfully. She ran to the door and down the stairs.

“Where do you think you’re going Hermione?” Harry shouted after her.

“After the man I’m in love with!” She shouted back as she ran through her kitchen and outside. She was stopped by another Auror blocking her path to Barty who was being held between the other two, a streak of blood coming from him nose telling of how his treatment so far had been.

“Stop, you’ve got it all wrong!” Hermione shouted struggling once more against an iron grip.

“No they haven’t.” Harry cold tone chilled her as he walked past her to stand with the other two. Barty looked at him, seeing the redness and blotching of his face telling of the bruise that would appear there in good time. A small smile appeared on his lips, the bastard deserved it.

“What are you smiling about?” Harry asked, sneering and punching Barty in the stomach, he doubled over but was held still by the two holding him.

“Stop it!” Hermione sobbed trying to reach around the wall of a man who was stopping her.

“Take him away,” Harry said and the pair holding Barty apparated away, Harry looked to the Auror holding Hermione and nodded his head, the man was gone. “You need to understand something Hermione. Even though the war is over there are still dark wizards out there who want revenge against us, the ones who destroyed the man they worshipped.”

“Barty wasn’t like that Harry! He told me everything while under the influence of one of my truth potions. He wanted to know why he was back. When we had some idea he was going to turn himself over. The only dark wizard here Harry is you!” She threw herself at him, her fists flashing. They never made contact, he had been ready for her. After a moment of struggle she pulled away from him, dragging her wrists from his hands falling back against the wall.

“One day you’ll thank me for getting him out of your life,” Harry said darkly, moving away from her and into the night.

Forcing herself back upright she looked out into the darkness, a crack of thunder and a flash of lightening came as warning but she ignored it. The rain began to fall on her, soaking through her kimono and plastering her hair down. Raising her hands she caught the drops before turning her face up.

“Bring him back to me,” She said quietly staring at the quickly clouding sky, she was talking to one man alone, God, “I helped rid this stinking planet of the greatest power of evil it has ever had incarnate! I fought hard, I sacrificed so much the least you can do is give him back to me!”

She cried out falling to her knees on her grass and sobbing uncontrollably, if anyone was listening they would have taken pity because there, on the ground, was a broken woman. A woman who had opened up to one man, only to have him taken by someone she would have once given her life for. The sounds she made were one’s of anguish and pain that resonated out into the night, calling for help though no one heard.