Miss Me or Not
Miss Me or Not
“If I disappeared one day, would you miss me?”
Harry turned his head to look over at Hermione in surprise.
“Of course I would.” Harry replied, “How's that even a question?”
Lying on the ground together in the sun, leaves of the great tree above them swayed in the spring air, Hermione's fluffy coils brushed Harry's cheek when the wind blew. It would've made him smile if not for the unease brewing.
“I don't know.” Hermione hummed, “I suppose I was just wondering if you'd forget me.”
“What?” Harry sat up abruptly with a frown. Hermione just looked up at him with warm brown eyes, thoughtful. “I could never forget you. Ever.”
“I'm glad.” Hermione smiled. “Thank you for that.” Her breezy smile didn't calm Harry's discontent.
“What's brought this on?” Harry asked.
“I was just thinking about my parents.” Hermione said, shutting her eyes against the bright sun shifting through the leaves overhead. “Because they've moved on.”
“Hermione–”
“I know, I did it to myself.” Hermione sighed. She sat up too, swishing curls out of her face as she did. “I guess… I just didn't think it would be so easy to move forward without me there. I thought maybe… maybe a part of them would miss me.” For a moment Harry paused, unsure how to reply.
In 1997 Hermione left home to fight in a war, and she did everything in her power to ensure her parents were safe. Michael and Jean Granger became Wendell and Monica Wilkens, memories changed and pasts revised, to protect them from Voldemort and the war for as long as possible. Hermione went to find them after the war ended, hoping she could reverse what she'd done and bring them back, but it was too late. Wendell and Monica Wilkens had a newborn daughter, Melody. They'd moved on completely, putting in roots and building themselves a new life in Australia without Hermione in it.
Maybe that was why she'd returned to Hogwarts for their eighth year - she didn't know what to do with herself after the loss of her parents.
“First of all, that's completely different.” Harry said, still frowning. “You modified their memories - you purposefully made sure they forgot you to keep them safe from the war. It wasn't your fault. Second of all, it doesn't matter what happens to me, I could never forget you. And if you disappeared I would topple the world looking for you. Nothing could stop me from finding you again.”
Hermione smiled the kind of smile that lit up her face and showed off her dimples, displaying such delicacy it had Harry's heart stuttering; the kind of smile that promised wicked trouble wrapped in a pretty package. So often that smile got them into trouble, just as often as Harry's sharp tongue and Ron's sarcastic smirk.
“It doesn't matter.” Hermione said then, leaning back into the grass. “Nevermind. I just wondered, is all.”
“Okay.” Harry wasn't comforted by that, but he didn't know what else to say. So he chose to remain silent, laying down again by her side.
The sun had shifted enough to be out of their eyes for now, the trunk of the large tree shading them, but Harry couldn't find it as peaceful as before. Even though Hermione tried to brush it aside, the seemingly random question struck him with uncertain fear.
“Promise me something?” Harry murmured.
“Hm?” Hermione turned her head to meet his eyes.
“Promise me you won't leave me behind.” Harry said, voice completely vulnerable as he looked into those deep brown eyes of her, so beautiful and mysterious. “If you ever disappear, promise you'll take me with you.”
Hermione reached out in the grass to clasp his hand, gently squeezing his fingers. It made Harry's stomach twist, for it seemed kinda like a goodbye.
“I promise to stay as long as you remember me.” Hermione replied just as softly. “And maybe even after that.”
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“Hey Harry!” Ron shouted from the edge of the pitch, brandishing his broom. “You ready?”
Harry blinked the sun out of his eyes, raising a hand to shield his face as he looked over towards his best friend. “Yeah!” Harry called. “Coming!”
With a broom in hand and glasses Stuck to his face with a very sturdy Sticking Charm, Harry jogged towards the pitch to join his team. It was one of the last matches of the season, he didn't want to let them down. But, truthfully, he'd been rather distracted as of late.
Harry felt a little like he was missing something. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but sometimes the sun would hit face just right, a brush of hair would touch his cheek, an unloved book in the common room collecting dust caught his eye, and Harry couldn't help but feel as though he'd lost something. Something invaluable and precious to him. But he had no idea what it could've been.
Maybe he needed to borrow Neville's Remembrall one of these days.
“Mate, you good?” Ron clapped him on the back as Harry reached the team, all of them grinning ear to ear. “Don't tell me you're checking out upstairs.”
“Before our last game at Hogwarts?” Harry scoffed. “Never.”
“Well, remember, we're only down by two scores.” Ginny said plainly, hair pulled back tightly into a smooth ponytail. “We need to move fast. Ravenclaw can't win the Cup, they're dead last in points, but they all know if they keep us from scoring that'll give Hufflepuff the overall win. Ravenclaws are sore losers too, so they're angry and ready to stomp us into the ground. But all we need to do is score as many times as possible and we'll have the Cup in the bag. Everyone clear on that?”
“We can do it, Captain.” Demelza Robins nodded firmly. “You can count on us.” She was one of the Chasers Harry brought on back when he was a fifth year, along with their two Beaters Jimmy Peakes and Ritchie Coote - it had been nice playing alongside all of them again.
(Despite being surrounded by people who mattered greatly to him, Harry still felt he was missing something)
“McGonagall knew what she was doing when she made Ginny Captain.” Dean muttered, nudging Harry. “Though, I rather think making her Head Girl was overboard.”
“I think it suits her.” Harry replied quietly, grinning. “She's got the commanding presence, and she's great at telling people what to do.”
“Harry.” Ginny called. Harry and Dean straightened, smothering their quirked smiles.
“Yeah?” Harry fought off a grin.
“Wait to catch the Snitch until we've scored at least three times.” Ginny told him firmly, “I know last match I had you grab it right out of the gate, but this time I want you to wait. Let us get going and score before even halfway going for it.”
“Got it.” Harry said quickly. “I'll let you guys be the stars on this one.” Ginny rolled her eyes.
“Chasers are always the stars.” Ginny replied smartly, “All you do is end the game. We Chasers make the game.” Harry laughed.
“Touché.” He said.
“This game is big.” Ginny looked at each other, sincerity and pride evident shining in her face. “We can win this as a team. As my last game as your Captain, and my last game at Hogwarts, I want this to be a good one. I want everyone to look at Gryffindor this match and forget every other match this year. So let's get out there and make some noise, yeah?”
“Ravenclaw won't know what hit ‘em.” Peakes pumped a fist. “Let's go!”
With confidence and pride, the seven of them walked across the pitch to meet Madam Hooch and the Ravenclaw team at the center. They were a sea of faces as Harry's senses were dramatically overwhelmed by the sheer decimals emanating from the stands as they made their approach.
Every row of seating was filled with students, new and old, wide-eyed and war-stricken alike, they all sat to watch. Part of it was that it was the last game of the year, the game that'd definitively crown a winner to the 1999 Hogwarts Inter-House Quidditch Championship, but another part of it was that it was Harry's last game.
Everyone was lining up to see Harry Potter play his final game as the best Seeker of his generation.
“Hey.” Ron brought Harry back to himself. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Harry said. They watched Ginny shake hands with the Ravenclaw Captain, Toby Lennox.
“You've got nothing to worry about.” Ron grabbed Harry's hand and squeezed. “I know Ginny talks big game, but it's not that big of a deal. They'll shoot some points, I'll block some throws, and then you'll catch the Snitch. Easy as pie.”
“I know.” Harry huffed. His throat was suddenly very sore as he said, “I've got my best friend right here, what else would I need?”
“You got that right.” Ron's eyes shone. “Just the two of us.”
Hooch's whistle warned them to mount their brooms.
Harry, as the game began and he rose to the sky, felt so strangely sick. He didn't know why.