After their dinner at Grimmauld Place, Hermione and Ron stepped from the fireplace into Ron's flat. It was small but pleasant—not as centrally located as Harry's, but that didn't matter much for wizards. And compared to his room at the Burrow, it was a palace.
'So did you enjoy meeting the Cannons?' asked Hermione. 'You seemed to comport yourself well enough.'
'Yeah,' said Ron. 'Harry was right—they're easy to get along with. If you'd told me two years ago I'd spend half an hour talking strategy with the Cannons' star Chaser, I would have thought you were barmy. But Bellamy was brilliant.'
'Yes, he seemed nice enough,' agreed Hermione. 'And I thought Lara was lovely. I can't say I got much of a read from Darren yet.'
'And Janet was a riot,' added Ron. 'She's got a tongue on her all right.'
'I noticed that,' said Hermione tartly.
Ron was quiet a moment, with the expression of someone trying to make up their mind. He inhaled and turned towards Hermione. 'I reckon maybe we should talk.'
She looked at him remorsefully. 'Are you still upset about the potion?'
'Yes and no,' he replied. 'Er, maybe we should sit down.'
Her eyes widened in alarm. They seated themselves on the sofa.
'Erm, Hermione ... this morning got me thinking.' He hesitated. 'I don't know if it's going to work for us as a couple.'
Her throat clenched shut. 'What?' she said, her voice cracking.
'I don't think we should see each other any more.'
She was dumbstruck, and the colour drained from her face. Her lower lip started trembling.
'Is this because of the potion?' she asked, and tears began to fall.
'Not exactly. I mean yeah, that's an awful potion, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was that you tried to hide it from me, and that you didn't trust me not to be upset.'
'But you are upset!' she said, a bit desperately. How could this be happening?
'Yeah, but not the way you were thinking. Not like I would have been upset a few years ago.' Ron looked down, then ran his hands through his hair before looking up again.
Her face ashen, she said, 'I'm sorry. I know I apologised, but I still feel awful about it. I shouldn't have underestimated you like that.'
'That's the thing, Hermione. I feel like you're always underestimating me.'
'That's not true. I'm so amazed by you all the time, how much you've grown up in the last year and a half. You've become the man I hoped for ... someone strong and mature ...' she trailed off.
'Can't you hear yourself? It always feels like you think you're ahead of me, and I'll never catch up. That I'm the only one who could ever be immature, and not you.'
'I know I can be immature too. I still act like a bossy little girl sometimes. But you help me overcome that. I thought we were so good for each other.' She was openly weeping by now, and Ron conjured a handkerchief for her.
'I think we were good for each other ... for a while,' he said. 'I couldn't have got through the thing with Fred without you. But if you think about it, we got together, er ... in the heat of the moment. And maybe we're not really that suited for each other.'
'You suited me,' she sobbed. 'Why don't I suit you?'
He tried putting his arms around her but she stiffened and pushed him away.
'I'm sorry, Hermione. It's just ... maybe you think I suited you, but I don't always feel like you respect me. Not like you respect Harry.'
She looked up at him, her sobs momentarily disrupted. 'Is this about Harry? You know I don't care about him that way.'
'Of course I know that,' replied Ron. 'But he's the one you treat like an equal. You told him about that potion and didn't worry how he'd take it. I feel like I'm always going to be in second place in your mind.'
'I can't believe you're still jealous of Harry.'
'I'm not jealous of Harry,' said Ron irritably. 'I'm just tired of being treated like a child by my girlfriend. I've already got one mother.'
'Is that how you see me? Like your mother?' demanded Hermione.
'When you boss me around and congratulate me for managing to grasp the right end of my wand, yeah I see you like my mother.'
'It takes two, Ronald!' she blurted. 'I wouldn't have to act like your mother if you didn't act like a bloody child all the time.'
'My point exactly!' cried Ron.
She was quiet for a while. 'So that's it, then. You're going to throw away everything we had together?'
'That's not how I'd put it. But yeah.' He softened again. 'I'm sorry, Hermione. I hate to hurt you like this. But I think it's better this way. Maybe we can still be friends again.'
She started to shiver. 'I can't believe this is happening.' She lowered her head into her hands. 'I can't believe this is happening.'
He put his arm around her, and this time she didn't resist. She wept heavily as he held her.
After a long while, she said, 'I should probably go home now.'
'Are you all right getting home?' he asked.
She nodded. 'I can probably say "Granger House" clearly enough.' Shoulders slumped, she walked heavily to the fireplace, and Ron walked with her.
'I'm so sorry,' he said.
Unable to reply, she took a pinch of Floo powder and dropped it into the grate. 'Granger House,' she said dully, before being sucked home to her parents.
She emerged into the lounge, where her mother was in an armchair reading.
'Home so soon? How was your evening?' said Emily automatically.
'Oh, mum,' cried Hermione, causing Emily to jump from her chair and go to her.
'Darling, what is it? Is everyone all right?' she asked, wrapping her arms around her trembling daughter.
'Everyone's fine,' choked Hermione. 'Only ... Ron ...' She couldn't form the words.
'Oh, my baby.' She squeezed Hermione harder.
Daniel, who had overheard the commotion but not the content, stepped into the room. 'What's wrong?'
Emily answered, 'Hermione and Ron have split up.'
'I'm so sorry, dear,' said Daniel, stroking Hermione's hair. 'Had you been considering it for a while? I know it's awful either way.'
Hermione's sobs recommenced. 'It was his idea, not mine,' she said, her face burning.
They sat together on the sofa, with Hermione sandwiched between her parents like a small child. She cried heavily for a while, as they held her and tried to offer comfort.
'He's a bloody fool,' snarled Daniel. 'You're one in a million, you know that.'
'Not the one he wants,' she choked.
They were quiet a little longer before Daniel said, 'Shall I put on the kettle? I should have suggested it sooner.'
Hermione nodded slowly. 'Just a tisane though. I think I just want to go to bed.'
Emily held her while Daniel went to the kitchen, and he soon returned with a hot mug. Hermione sat up and took it from him. She inhaled the aroma and let the steam soothe her aching brow.
'I just never saw it coming,' she said. 'He said we weren't suited for each other. He said I treat him like a child.'
Daniel and Emily exchanged glances.
'What?' said Hermione accusingly.
Emily couldn't stifle a small laugh. 'Darling, you are unfailingly observant even in extremis.'
Hermione was not amused. 'So you agree with him then? You think I treat him like a child?'
'No, sweetheart, that's not what I meant,' said Emily reassuringly. 'I was only agreeing that you and Ron aren't necessarily well suited to one another. You're just such a remarkable young woman and ...'
'Are you saying Ron wasn't good enough for me?' asked Hermione indignantly.
'We're your parents,' said Daniel. 'Nobody's good enough for you, as far as I'm concerned anyway.'
'We were just worried because wizards marry so young,' explained Emily. 'First loves are usually just that—a first love. I'm glad I had my first love, but thank goodness I didn't marry him.'
Hermione's agony seemed to lift for a moment, but it was replaced by a heavy sorrow. 'But how will I ever find someone who knows me like Ron does? Who can understand what I've been through?'
'Darling, you will,' cooed Emily. 'You're so young. I didn't even meet your father until I was twenty-four.'
'Twenty-four!' gasped Hermione. 'I don't want to wait that long!'
'No, sweetheart,' replied Daniel. 'It doesn't have to be that long. You just have your whole life ahead of you. I don't think you realise how wonderful you are, and how much you have to offer.'
Hermione's tea had cooled, and she drank it steadily. It soothed her parched throat a bit.
'How will I even interact? I can't see him right now, but I can't ask Harry to avoid him. They're best mates!'
'Surely Harry can make time for both of you,' said Emily.
Daniel added, 'You'll find the time. It's not like you're all spending an hour a day commuting.'
Hermione smiled. 'Thanks, daddy,' she said before draining the last of her tea. 'I should go to bed now. I'm really tired.'
Her parents rose with her. 'Do you want me to come tuck you in?' asked Emily.
Hermione nodded. 'Yes, please.'
Not long afterwards, Hermione was lying under the blankets in her single bed, with Emily in a chair next to her.
Stroking her daughter's hair, Emily said, 'I know this is awful. I've been through it myself, when I was around your age. But time will help, and all your wonderful qualities—your kindness, your curiosity, your enormous heart—all of those will help carry you through this.'
Hermione nodded, sniffling.
'I have no doubt in my mind,' continued Emily, 'that you will get through this. You'll see, love.'
'Thank you, mum,' said Hermione sleepily.
Emily bent forward and kissed her forehead. 'I love you so much, darling.'
Hermione exhaled heavily, and Emily turned off the lamp as she left.
-––—––-
Early the next morning, Harry awoke to the lovely sensation of warm, overlapping limbs. Ginny, he thought with satisfaction, and rolled towards her. But when he opened his eyes, the familiar fan of vivid red hair was absent, and instead he saw a dark-haired woman still asleep. He felt a small stab of disappointment, but it was followed by lush memories of the previous night.
He and Elizabeth had left Penumbra relatively early, so they'd had ample time to explore after satisfying Harry's initial urgent need. She'd been as eager as he was, and once he was able to think straight he attended to her thoroughly. Ginny had trained him well.
There had been pockets of conversation—she told him more about her life and ambitions. She admitted that the photograph of him in the Prophet had 'stirred her up' and influenced her decision to go to Penumbra that night. Naturally she hadn't expected to meet Harry himself.
He'd spoken very little about his own life—he mainly asked open-ended questions, or told her how attractive he found her. Elizabeth had tried several times to steer the conversation around him but she was thwarted, partly by his impaired verbal skills, but mostly by his lifelong habit of self-protection.
Looking back, he was astonished by how easily he'd got her into his bed. He didn't know whether it was the alcohol, the conversation with Alistair, the 'deliciously sinful' atmosphere of the bar—or some combination of the three. He found himself wondering whether he could repeat it.
Elizabeth rolled over. Eventually her breathing grew more shallow, and she opened her eyes soon after. Recognising him, she smiled and said, 'Hello,' in a husky voice.
'Hello yourself,' he replied, kissing her lazily on the forehead. She reached for him, and before long they were lying on their backs again, satisfied.
He must have fallen asleep, because the next time he opened his eyes she was out of bed and wearing the top half of the glow-in-the-dark Prongs pyjamas George Weasley had given him.
'Good morning,' she said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. 'Should we get some breakfast?'
Harry sat up and stretched his arms. 'Yes, I'm famished.'
'I'll bet you are!'
Running his hand through his hair, he said, 'We have two options. We could either have breakfast in bed, courtesy of my somewhat demented house-elf, Kreacher. Or I could prepare breakfast myself. Which would you prefer?'
She looked skeptical. 'Do you really know how to cook, or are you threatening me with "bachelor wizard cookery" which generally involves wand-toasted bread and tinned beans?'
He laughed, 'Don't forget the tomato, mangled by a cutting curse, and a glass of murky pumpkin juice. But no, I really do know how to cook—I was raised by Muggles.'
'Oh right, I'd forgot ... As much as I'm tempted to stay in bed with you and eat grapes off a platter, I can't turn down the chance to have Harry Potter cook me breakfast.'
'All right. Let me go down first, so I can break the news to Kreacher. The kitchen is three floors down.' Harry got out of bed and pulled on the previous night's boxer shorts and a dressing gown.
After visiting the loo, he went downstairs to the kitchen and found Hermione at the table, with a cup of tea and an untouched scone in front of her. Her eyes were bloodshot, with dark circles underneath, and her hair was bushy.
'Hermione, what's the matter?'
'Ron broke up with me,' she replied hoarsely.
'Ron broke up with you?" he repeated, sitting down next to her. 'Why? What happened?'
She sniffled and wiped her nose with a wadded handkerchief. 'He said we're not suited to each other. And that I treat him like a child.'
'Oh Hermione, I'm so sorry.' He wrapped her in a hug. 'When did this happen?'
'Last night, after dinner.'
Elizabeth walked tentatively into the kitchen, still wearing only the pyjama top. 'Er, pardon me ...' she said.
Hermione turned pale and pulled away. 'Oh my god, you've got company ... I'll just leave ...'
'No,' protested Harry, placing his hands on her shoulders to stop her. 'Please don't go. Hang on a minute.'
He went to Elizabeth and pulled her into the hallway. 'I'm so sorry, Elizabeth, but my friend is having a crisis. I'm afraid you'll have to go.'
'Was that Hermione Granger?' she asked, peering over his shoulder.
'Can I offer you breakfast some other time?' he asked, ignoring her question. 'I'm terribly sorry to kick you out like this.'
She looked disappointed. 'Of course. Does that mean I'll see you again? I wasn't sure what to expect. Penumbra, you know.'
He took a deep breath. 'Yeah. I can't say I'm relationship material. I just got out of something serious and ...'
'I understand,' she said. 'Owl me sometime. Or come find me at the Floo department.'
'Can you see yourself out? The fireplace is one floor up. I'm so sorry.'
'Yes, of course,' she replied, and they kissed again before she returned to his bedroom to get dressed.
Harry pulled his dressing gown closed before returning to the kitchen, where Hermione was tearing her scone into increasingly small pieces. He sat down again beside her.
'What happened? Are you all right?'
'No, I'm not all right,' she said. 'It's over. We're not suited to each other. I don't respect him enough.'
'Is that what he said?'
She nodded.
Harry wasn't sure how to respond, so he tried to be silently supportive instead. He loved Hermione, but he had to admit Ron had assessed things correctly. Harry had never entirely understood their relationship.
'I still can't believe it,' she said. 'I'd waited so long for him to grow up, and he finally had done ...' Tears rolled from her eyes, and Harry conjured her a fresh handkerchief.
'He'd become the man I always wanted ... he'd even developed table manners.' She started to sob.
'And now that he's trained,' she continued. 'He'll find someone else, and she'll get to have him.'
Harry, still unsure what to say, made vaguely soothing noises.
'And his parents!' she said, in a fresh burst of woe. 'I already thought of them as my in-laws. And now that's never going to happen.'
'Er, Hermione,' started Harry. 'Didn't you mostly complain about Mrs Weasley, and how she treats Fleur?'
'Perhaps,' she said. 'But I was prepared for it.'
Harry was ravenous by that point, but he had no idea how to extricate himself and prepare breakfast. Could he possibly communicate silently with Kreacher using the house-elf bond?
Kreacher! he thought desperately.
Yes, Master! replied Kreacher from within Harry's mind.
Could you please make me breakfast? The usual, but with extra sausage and some buttered toast.
Kreacher is delighted to serve Master this way! Only the most fortunate house-elves can receive orders silently! Kreacher is very very lucky! Thank you, Master!
Harry wasn't sure how to dismiss Kreacher, and he was worried that Hermione would notice he wasn't paying proper attention.
Thank you, Kreacher. That will be all.
Harry felt a tiny pop in his mind, which he hoped meant Kreacher was no longer present. It was bad enough having Voldemort in there, he thought.
'... and then he said I'd proven his point,' continued Hermione, still crying.
Harry was relieved to hear food-preparation sounds from the other end of the kitchen. 'I'm so sorry, Hermione,' he said. 'Trust me, I know how awful this feels.'
'Oh, Harry, of course you do! I forgot about you and Ginny.' Her eyes grew wide, 'And I can't believe I intruded on you and your, er– company.'
'Never mind that,' replied Harry. At least I got in there once more before breakfast, thought a devilish part of his mind, and he was mortified on its behalf.
'Did you meet her last night? Do you think you'll see her again?'
'I wouldn't mind seeing her a few more times, but I don't envision anything serious.'
'I hope she knows that,' cautioned Hermione.
'We met at a decadent vampire bar in Knockturn Alley, so I doubt she'll have any misapprehensions.'
Hermione was aghast. 'You went into Knockturn Alley? Do you have a death wish?'
Harry did his best to explain Alistair and his unusual circumstances.
'He was in Gryffindor? How many centuries ago? It would be fascinating to talk with him—he sounds much more informative than any of the Hogwarts ghosts or portraits. I'd have so many questions!'
'I'm not sure I'd recommend that. At least not in your present condition. He was oddly ... compelling.'
'Are you afraid I'd fall under his influence and become his thrall?' she asked, smiling a little.
'I daresay you'd forget about Ron pretty fast.'
'And forget my own name as well. No thanks.' She let out a heavy sigh. 'Oh, Harry, how will I manage?'
'You've managed before without Ron,' he observed.
'And I was miserable.'
'That's true, but I should point out we had a Horcrux with us. Two, actually, if you count the one behind my scar.'
'You're right. I'd forgot about that.' She was quiet a moment. 'Merlin, what an awful time that was.'
Harry nodded. 'It really was.'
'That's the thing, Harry. Where will I find someone else who can understand what we've been through?'
'I don't know, Hermione. But we're not the only people who fought in the war, or who suffered.'
'I know that,' she said. 'But someone who understands the loneliness, and the despair, and what it was like to carry a Horcrux for months. Someone who doesn't think we were mad for breaking into Gringotts.'
'Actually, that was quite mad,' observed Harry, and she swatted him.
He continued, 'Honestly, I'm probably the last person who should try to cheer you up. Here I woke up next to a beautiful witch and my first thought was to be disappointed she wasn't Ginny.'
'Oh, Harry,' she said sympathetically.
He sighed. 'I know how you feel, wondering whether anyone else can really understand what we've been through. I don't think even Ginny understood, and that's part of what pulled us apart.'
After a silence, Hermione giggled unexpectedly. 'The solution to this problem should be obvious ... It's a shame I only see you as a brother.'
'I know, same here,' he replied affectionately. 'It would certainly be convenient. No need to explain my panic attacks around fluttering black curtains, for example.'
She squeezed his hand.
They were quiet again, until Harry took a deep breath and spoke. 'Fortunately things do change, eventually. I can't believe how much my life has changed in a single week. Last Sunday I was still a bespectacled Auror-in-training.'
'And now you're shagging some trollop you met in Knockturn Alley,' smirked Hermione.
'And you're practising blood magic in your leisure time.'
'Ugh, that stupid potion. None of this would have happened if I hadn't made it.'
'Do you really believe that?'
She sighed. 'No, I suppose not. I'm sorry again about how that turned out. Are you all right?'
'I am,' said Harry, sincerely. 'There's nothing wrong with being average.'
'Above average,' she corrected.
'Alistair gave me some perspective on that. Magical strength isn't everything.'
'Well, a fat lot of good it's doing me right now,' said Hermione ruefully.
'You could at least charm your hair. I'm sure it would lift your spirits to look in the mirror and see old Bellatrix looking out at you.'
'Don't be horrid,' she scolded. 'Should we try the charm on your hair, as Ron suggested?'
'Suit yourself.'
She pulled out her wand and pointed it at Harry. 'Domina capilli.'
His hair seemed to ruffle momentarily, but nothing changed.
'Domina capilli.'
A low growling sound emanated from Harry's scalp, and a bit of smoke appeared.
'No, I think we've only made it cross,' said Hermione. 'Clearly this isn't the charm for you.'
'Perhaps we can use blood magic to create some hair gel. Could you look into that for me?'
'Very funny. But seriously, thanks for cheering me up. And sorry again for causing your paramour to ... withdraw prematurely.'
'Hermione!'
She smiled mischievously.
Kreacher set Harry's breakfast on the table, and Harry thanked him before turning back to Hermione. 'Won't you have something?'
'I will, thanks. But after that I should go home—Mum was making noises about renting videos and eating ice cream.'
'Sugar-free ice cream, surely?'
'No, the real thing. Apparently this qualifies as an extenuating circumstance.'
He ate voraciously, and Hermione managed to eat a scone and a piece of sausage from Harry's plate.
'Harry, how will you juggle your friendships with Ron and me? I don't think I can be around him anytime soon.'
'I'm sure we'll work something out. Maybe you can send a Patronus before coming round, just in case he's here,' suggested Harry.
'Good idea. And you might consider having Prongs guard the premises while you're ... entertaining guests. Seems rather appropriate, really.' He scowled at her, but she continued. 'Actually I'm glad to see you're moving on. Gives the rest of us hope.'
'Thanks,' said Harry, a bit embarrassed. He hadn't wanted his escapades discovered quite this quickly.
They said their goodbyes, leaving Harry to his remaining piece of toast. He supposed he'd be hearing from Ron soon—perhaps he should get a nap in first.
Harry walked upstairs to his room, and on the disheveled bed he found a handwritten note from Elizabeth:
Thank you for the extremely lovely evening (and morning). I expect you to provide breakfast next time.
Yours,
Elizabeth
He lay down and inhaled the scent from the pillow she had used. It was different to Ginny's scent, which he knew he would never forget. But they say variety is the spice of life, thought Harry.
Ron turned up late that afternoon, long after Harry had awakened from his much-needed nap.
'I suppose you've heard already,' he said simply.
'Yeah,' replied Harry. 'She came round this morning.'
'How was she?'
'About how you'd expect. We spent a while talking.'
'Thanks, mate,' said Ron. 'Sorry you're caught in the middle.'
Harry shrugged. 'It's all right. How are you doing?'
'I hate to admit it,' he sighed, 'but I mostly feel relieved.'
'Had you been planning it a long time?' asked Harry.
'I guess you could say it had been brewing for a while, but I didn't really feel certain until yesterday. I reckon the thing with the potion pushed me over the edge. Gave me an excuse even.'
'I didn't realise things were that bad,' said Harry.
Ron shook his head. 'They weren't ... I loved her, you know. Still do. But I just couldn't be with her anymore.'
Harry nodded. 'I'll admit it didn't come as a total shock. I always wondered what drew you together.'
Ron sighed. 'I think it started when I saw her with Viktor Krum at the Yule Ball. That was the first time I noticed how pretty she was.'
'Same here,' replied Harry with a chuckle.
'Yeah, I never saw that coming,' smirked Ron. 'Anyway, I think I sort of fixated on her after that. Like if she'd only choose me, that would prove I was special. After all, Viktor Krum had chosen her. But who was I kidding ... why would she choose me over you? That's what I thought anyway.'
Harry sighed. He hated that Ron had tormented himself for no reason.
'But then after Krum she hardly dated anyone. I could never figure out why more blokes weren't after her.'
'They were probably scared you'd curse their bollocks off,' observed Harry. 'Everyone knew you liked her, and that she liked you.'
'It took me the longest time to realise it. Let me tell you, it was like torture living with her in the tent. Sometimes I knew for certain that she fancied me, but then I'd get stuck with the Horcrux and it would convince me I'd been fooling myself. Why would a girl like Hermione—"the most brilliant witch of her generation"—be interested in a tosser like Ron Weasley?'
'You know she never saw you that way,' said Harry.
'I know that now. But remember how I was back then.'
Harry nodded, and Ron continued.
'When we were held captive at Malfoy Manor, and I heard her being tortured ... I couldn't bear it. And they were going to give her to Greyback ... I wanted more than anything to rescue her, to keep her safe, to give up my life for her even. If I could just protect her, I'd be worthy.
'The day we finally got together, during the battle, was already the most intense day of my life. Hers too, I expect. I think I was half-mad from adrenaline, and when we kissed it was unbelievable. I knew I'd probably die within the hour, but it didn't matter because Hermione had chosen me.
'But then it was over, and Fred had died. And Lavender, and Lupin, and Tonks ... Hermione was my only comfort. She stayed with me—Mum never noticed, or didn't say anything about it. Hermione took care of me, and I never wanted to be apart from her. She was the only thing that made sense.'
'Yeah,' said Harry. 'That's what it was like for Ginny and me.'
'Right. But unlike you and Ginny, Hermione and I were never ... a good fit. I feel like an arse just saying it, but the alchemy just wasn't there. I think without the mortal peril there wasn't actually much spark.
'I wanted there to be,' continued Ron. 'Merlin, she's so pretty! But I just felt like a naughty schoolboy around her, and not in a good way. Like I wasn't really allowed to touch her. Lavender, on the other hand ...' Ron grinned.
'Oh, I remember,' chuckled Harry. 'All of Gryffindor remembers. I think the portraits are still talking about you.'
'You couldn't pry me and Lavender apart,' he said fondly.
'I know. We tried.'
'Why couldn't I have that with Hermione? I could have tolerated the bossiness and all the rest. It would have been a turn-on, to be honest.'
Harry laughed. 'Ronald Weasley,' he scolded, imitating Hermione. 'Your penmanship is abominable! How are we going to punish you?'
'Exactly!' cried Ron. 'I tried to goad her into it a few times, but she never got the hint. She was just too bashful. Always in her head or something.'
'I assume you didn't tell her any of this last night. She certainly didn't mention anything about your sex life.'
'Merlin, no! I just said we weren't well suited to each other and figured she'd attach her own meaning.'
'Good move,' said Harry. 'I'd probably be duelling you right now if you'd been more explicit ... So what are you going to do now?'
Ron sighed. 'I'll keep my distance in the near term. I'm sorry if that's awkward for you. I won't mind if you make her first priority for a while.'
'I'm sure we can work something out. You're always welcome for dinner if she's not coming.'
'Cheers. As for my other plans, I'd like to start dating other witches, if I can do it without Hermione finding out.'
'As long as you leave me out of it,' said Harry. 'I don't want to have to hide anything from her.'
Ron looked a bit sheepish. 'How would you feel if I asked out Janet?'
Harry raised his eyebrows. 'That could be awkward. But obviously it's none of my business, and I won't stop you. Hopefully she'll make things simple and shoot you down.'
'Oi! Some friend you are,' protested Ron. 'But seriously, do you think I'm her type?'
'I know she likes tall men, so you've that going for you. But remember she saw you just yesterday with your long-term girlfriend, so you might want to wait at least a day or so before turning up with flowers.'
'She doesn't strike me as the flowers type, honestly.'
'Me neither. But with witches you never know.'
'True,' agreed Ron. 'Say, did you have fun last night with Darren and Janet?'
Harry didn't reply, but apparently his facial expression spoke volumes.
'You didn't!' exclaimed Ron. 'Not with Janet, I hope?'
'Merlin, no! First thing, I'm about six inches too short. And second, that would be fraternisation among Cannons, which is strictly forbidden.'
'Who then? Someone you met last night?'
'Yes, a witch named Elizabeth. She went to one of the other schools,' replied Harry.
'Blimey!' said Ron, his eyes widening. 'There are several dozen schools worth of witches we've never met! Did she come home with you?'
'She did, but that's all I'm going to say,' said Harry. 'We've never been in the habit of talking about our conquests.'
'Too right we weren't—not while you were dating my sister!'
Harry looked at Ron. 'Have you told your family yet? About Hermione?'
'No, I'll tell them tonight at dinner. Speaking of which, I should be going.' He rose and started walking towards the fireplace. 'Thanks again for being there for Hermione. And thanks also for understanding, and for not making me feel like a bastard for breaking things off.'
'It sounds like it was the right decision, and I'm glad you did a clean job of it. That'll make things easier in the long run.'
'I hope so. See you soon!' he said before Flooing off to the Burrow.
After Ron left, Harry went up to the rooftop to enjoy the midsummer evening light, and to think about everything Ron had told him.
It had never occurred to Harry that his friends might not be sexually compatible. He knew they weren't demonstrative, but he'd attributed that to Hermione's discretion rather than to an underlying problem. He'd always been able lose himself completely in Ginny's company—it was unfortunate that Ron and Hermione hadn't enjoyed something similar.
Harry occasionally wondered why he had never been romantically interested in Hermione. She was certainly pretty enough, and she knew him better than anyone. But it just felt wrong somehow, for reasons he couldn't articulate.
Perhaps it was because he had no real family, and he'd adopted her as a sort of sister. But he also saw the Weasleys as family, and he'd not had that problem with Ginny.
His thoughts flowed automatically towards Elizabeth. He knew he'd enjoy seeing her a few more times, but he didn't see a future beyond that. The task of allowing another person to get to know him as Ginny had done seemed too arduous. Better just to have fun for a while and then move on to someone new. Or not even to have a plan at all.
-––—––-
Emily wasn't sure she'd ever seen Hermione go so many hours without opening a book. And she was certain her daughter had never sat still in front of a television that long. It seemed, however, that the Muggle prescription for a broken heart was superior to any magical remedy.
They'd started with 'A Room With A View,' which had been one of Hermione's favourites at age thirteen. Emily was struck by the uncanny resemblance between Hermione and the lead actress—how had she not noticed it before? Fortunately the actor playing her love interest looked nothing like Ron.
Next they watched 'Four Weddings and a Funeral,' which Hermione had never previously seen. She got weepy during some of the romantic bits, but otherwise seemed to enjoy it. 'It's so delightfully English,' she said approvingly, 'and thoroughly Muggle.'
They ended with a rather risky selection, 'There's Something About Mary,' which had been recommended to Emily by one of their dental assistants. At first she worried the comedy was too rude for her ladylike daughter, but Hermione surprised her by laughing uncontrollably during the most appalling scenes.
Daniel dutifully supplied them with Thai takeaway during the third film, and mother and daughter sat contentedly on the sofa afterwards.
'Thanks again, Mum—this was exactly what I needed. Although I'd never previously suspected just how lowbrow my humour apparently is.'
'I should probably be relieved that after seven years at a boarding school, something has the power to shock you,' replied Emily.
'I'm only sorry Fred Weasley never got to see that film. I'll recommend it to George though.'
Emily saw Hermione's eyes dim when she mentioned the Weasley twins, but she didn't think it was from grief over Fred.
After a long silence, Hermione said, 'Oh, Mum ... how do I start over? I don't even know how to go about my day. I saw Ron most evenings, or Ron and Harry. I suppose I've neglected my other friendships, now that I'm no longer at Hogwarts.'
'It's only been a few weeks since you finished school. There's no need to feel bad about it.'
'I know, but I used to see them every day, and I don't think I've seen Luna, Ginny, or Neville once since then.'
'Then you should ring them,' suggested Emily. 'Or owl them, I suppose.'
'I should do, yes. I can't say I'd be much fun though.'
'It's not your job to entertain them. I'm sure your friends would want to be supportive,' said Emily.
'In my hour of need, you mean?' said Hermione, with an edge to her voice.
'Well, yes.'
Hermione sighed. 'I feel so ashamed somehow. Like I should have seen this coming, and that everyone else knew but me.'
'Oh, sweetie,' said Emily, stroking Hermione's hand.
'How could I have missed all the warning signs?' she asked. 'I'm supposed to be so observant, but I was completely blindsided.'
'Don't be so hard on yourself. You're only human, and we all have blind spots.'
'I suppose,' she said glumly.
They were quiet for a while, until Emily asked a question that had long plagued her. 'Don't take this the wrong way, but your father and I never quite understood what you saw in Ron. I knew I couldn't ask while you were together, but would you mind explaining it to me now?'
Hermione frowned, 'You didn't like him?'
'No, of course we liked him—he's unquestionably a fine young man. But I'll admit we were rather surprised to learn that you and he were a couple, when you restored our memories last summer. Although that particular revelation got overshadowed by the rest.'
Hermione reddened, and Emily felt a twinge of remorse for alluding to how angry she and Daniel had been the previous summer when they found out the truth. Indeed, she was still upset that Hermione had deceived them for years, but she'd dropped the subject months earlier.
'I'm sorry it's not more obvious to you what I saw in him, because it's long been clear to me. I just saw so much potential in him—I could see he was a diamond in the rough. Everyone overlooked him because of Harry, and perhaps I did too at first. But then I made a sort of game of noticing his good qualities, and of seeing the best in him.
'I'll admit it was frustrating at times,' she continued, 'waiting so long for those qualities to fully develop. And it broke my heart, because I saw how unhappy he was making himself. I just felt so protective of him, as if he were a plant I was nurturing.'
She started to cry. 'That's what makes it so hard now. He's finally become the man I wanted, with all the attributes I saw in him when we were still children—and more besides. But he doesn't want me anymore.'
'Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry.' Emily held Hermione as she cried. 'Next time it doesn't have to be that hard. You don't need to identify another diamond in the rough. You're an amazing young woman, irrespective of witchcraft, and you deserve a partner who's already reached his potential, or near to it.'
'Thanks, Mum,' sniffled Hermione.
Emily couldn't resist asking another longstanding question. 'Why is it you were never interested in Harry? If nothing else, he has those lovely green eyes.'
Hermione seemed surprised by the question. 'I don't know, honestly. As soon as we became friends I think I just adopted him as a brother—perhaps because he's also an only child.' She looked at her mother and shrugged, as if to dismiss the topic. Emily suspected there was more to it than that, but she didn't persist.
Hermione pulled the blanket from her lap and started to fold it. 'I should get ready for bed,' she said. 'I didn't sleep well last night, and I don't want to look a fright for my internship tomorrow.'
'You've got youth on your side,' replied Emily. 'Just drink another glass of water tonight and you'll be fine. But be sure to use the fluoride rinse afterwards. I may have bought ice cream, but I won't let your teeth pay the price.'
'I promise I will,' she said, smiling. 'And the ice cream was a real treat. Almost made it all worthwhile.'
Emily, who insisted on cleaning up, sent Hermione upstairs with a final hug. My brave, beautiful girl, she thought.
At least this was a rite of passage Emily could relate to, unlike Hermione's other experiences. She and Daniel were still gutted by what they'd learnt the previous summer in Australia, that their daughter had narrowly escaped death again and again. And when Emily saw her scars and found out she'd been tortured ... she'd needed Daniel to hold her for hours as she wept, and she still had nightmares about it.
It was awful to feel so helpless to protect her own daughter. She supposed every parent had to accept this truth, but somehow the magical aspect made it more egregious.
Emily and Daniel no longer wished their daughter weren't a witch. They knew it was central to her identity—it was impossible to imagine a non-magical Hermione. But they hated the gulf it had created within the family, and it chafed a bit when she was patronising towards them.
They hoped that having Hermione at home for the first time in years would bring them closer, particularly now that the war was over and she was no longer keeping secrets.
As Emily went to sleep that night, she reviewed her memories of the day they'd spent together. She knew now how precious those memories were, having spent nearly a year not knowing she even had a daughter. Would Hermione have to become a mother herself before she fully grasped the cruelty of what she'd done? Emily hoped it wouldn't pain her too much when she finally realised it, and that she and Daniel would be there to comfort her.