The Return

Chapter 8

The next day was thankfully Saturday, and Hermione did not have to go to work. She had not gotten a wink of sleep the night before, after all that had transpired between her and Ron. She had sat awake thinking about all that had happened in the last week and how things had seemed bleak for most of the time. She had hated herself for somehow betraying Ron with her feelings for Harry, but she had tried her hardest to make them diminish. But no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t shake them, and in all truthfulness, she didn’t actually want them to go away.

She now sat at her kitchen table, a glass of hot cocoa in her hand, staring out of her window at the snow falling across London. She didn’t know what to do next, but she knew she wanted to see Harry. She didn’t want to spend another not being able to love him openly, for the whole world to see. But when the thought of how to confess it all to Harry came to her, she suddenly panicked and didn’t know how to do it.

She wanted it to be storybook and sweet, not just a ‘hey, you won!’ kind of a moment. She had never had to worry about doing something like this in the past. And it suddenly frightened her. She decided to just go to Grimmwauld and see how things ended up. Tell him what had happened with Ron and the letter and how Ron was okay. Tell him she still loved and couldn’t imagine her life without him for another second.

She stood from the table and walked to her room to get dressed. She tried on about a dozen outfits, until finally deciding on a pair of jeans, that hugged her curves just right, and a green sweater, that was just the same color as Harry’s eyes and a pair of black trainers. She made her hair lay a little flatter, with a few untamed curls and applied a slight makeup charm to her face. She stood in the mirror for several minutes staring at herself, cursing that she even cared about such trivial things at a time like this. She was about to go to the man she had loved forever, knowing that for once and all, they would be together. And she was worried about what she was wearing and whether her hair was too bushy.

She finally pried herself from the mirror and went to the door. She put on her thickest coat and her old Gryffindor scarf. She thought of her destination and apparated. She arrived outside Grimmwauld, just as she had done a week before. She smiled at the memory of falling on the ice and careful took the ten steps to the stairs. She knocked on the door, praying that Harry would not answer the door in a state of undress like he had the last time. The door creaked open and Hermione was met with the weary form of Remus.

“Hermione, how good to see you. Please come in.” Remus smiled down to her and moved for her to enter.

“Thank you Remus.”

“What brings you here today? Are you here to see our boy? I’m so glad he’s home. It’s nice to have some young blood in this old house.” Remus asked excitedly.

“I am here to see Harry. Is he here?” Hermione asked nervously.

“Yes, he is probably in the library again. He’s been spending a lot of time in there the last few days.”

“He’s been reading?” Hermione asked, eagerly hoping she finally had some influence on one of the boys.

“Oh no, he’s been sitting in there staring out of the window, pondering life and remembering those things he always wished for during the war. He’s been quite down, and I have been trying to cheer him up, but have not been successful. Maybe you could try; you always were good at getting through to him when no one else could.” Remus motioned his arm up the stairs towards the library. Hermione smiled and inwardly beamed at the compliment of having an effect on Harry, no one else did.

“I’ll try, but you know how stubborn he can be.” Hermione said jokingly, bringing a smile to Remus’ previous sullen face.

Hermione ascended the stairs to the third floor and found the door to the library cracked open, a faint light flooding the open space. She pushed it open, trying not to make a sound, and walked into the room. She quietly entered the library, not disturbing Harry, who indeed sat by the window. She stood in the doorway for several moments, watching him sit there, noticing he indeed did have a book on the arm rest of the chair but was not reading it. She smiled at the fact that he had at least grabbed one.

Hermione slowly closed the door and when it clicked in place, Harry turned to her and his face lit up. He stood from the chair and turned to her, standing only a few feet away. He battled with himself, not knowing why she was here, but having the fleeting need to run and hug her.

“Hi.” Was all he could bring himself to say. She smiled at him, and he heart melted.

“Hi. I got your letter.” She left it at that, purposefully wanting him to wait it out, wondering where they stood. He had made her wait over two years; it was his turn to do a little waiting and wondering.

“Oh yeah.”

“Yeah. You’ve become quite the writer, Mr. Potter.” She teased, a small smile finding its way to his face.

“Well, you know, I try.” Harry teased back, every second of her being as vague as possible killing him.

“So Remus is happy your home, glad to have a male presence in the house besides himself.” Hermione started a new conversation, unfocused on the letter.

“Yeah, so about the letter. Is that why you came?”

“Yes. It was a very nice letter. Even Ron thought so.”

“You let him read it!? Why?” Harry asked, sounding almost mad.

“I fell asleep with it on my lap and he found me like that and read it. I had no control over it. We talked about it and everything is okay. He’s not mad, we’re still fine.” Hermione defended herself, but may have been too vague on the part about her and Ron. Harry took it as a statement of them being together.

“I see. Well, I gave you the choice and you took it.” Harry said as he walked towards Hermione and then right past her. Hermione spun around and caught his arm, stopping him from exiting the library.

“Don’t walk away.” She said it calm and sincere. Harry turned to look at her, hope suddenly filling his eyes.

“Don’t walk away?” Harry whispered.

“You asked me in your letter, to let you know if you needed to walk away, and I’m telling you, don’t walk away.” Hermione told him, looking deep into his emerald eyes. A tear fell down his cheek, as he realized the weight of her words. He had won, she was here for him, and his life would be what he wanted it to be. Hermione smiled to him, and his heart melted as he took her into his arms.

They stood there, in the others embrace, for several minutes, neither saying anything, barely breathing, just basking in the glow of a renewed peace. Harry finally pulled back and looked at Hermione, who had tears standing still in her eyelids. He smiled to her, and then caressed her cheek softly with his palm. He leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips, a kiss that no longer had the weight of the world behind it. A kiss that showed the world they belong to the other, their love was nothing to hide and they would show that to each other until the end of their days and even beyond that.

“So, you’re here, for me? To be with me? You chose me?” Harry asked, watching the tears finally fall down Hermione’s cheeks. She merely nodded to him, unable to speak. “This is the best day of my life, Hermione. I love you.” Harry finally said it, without having to argue a point or writing it in a letter.

“I love you too, Harry.” Hermione whispered to him, finally feeling the wonderful weight being lifted off of her heart, as she spoke the words she longed to say since she was thirteen.

They stayed in the library for the remainder of the day and long into the night. They talked about anything and everything. Hermione explained to him what had truly happened with Ron and Harry shed a few tears knowing that Ron had been hurt, but was thankful he understood and was okay. They talked about that night, the night they never talked about before, and they talked about the future. They fell asleep in each others arms in front of the fireplace, for the first time, but knowing it would not be the last.