March 1998. Shell Cottage #2
THIRTEEN
MARCH 1998 SHELL COTTAGE #2
The memory started just after they had buried Dobby along the beach just outside shell cottage. Harry’s stomach clenched. He stood behind Hermione who was standing at the kitchen window watching his memory self as he sat beside the house elf’s grave.
“Hermione.” Luna’s wispy voice came from behind and Hermione turned. “You’re looking quite green today. Is it the blibbering humdingers? They have been known to turn one’s stomach with their offensive smell.” Hermione smiled despite the heaviness of the day. “No Luna, I’ve just been feeling ill is all. Everything catching up to me I suppose.”
Present Harry watched as Hermione’s fingers traced the raised scar along her arm. His heart clenched. Of all memories she could have taken, he wished she would have taken that one. He, Ron and Luna had been in the dungeon below, helpless as she screamed. He had thrown up in the corner while he held his hands over his ears.
Luna’s gaze danced over her, smiling after a beat. “Perhaps it is the light you are carrying.” Hermione snorted a chuckle. “What?” She asked after a moment. Luna pointed her wand at Hermione’s stomach and with a little flick of her wrist, a little ball of light appeared, pulsating as it hovered in front of her stomach. Hermione reached out, her fingers touching the soft light. “Luna…” Her voice trembled, “What is that?” Luna smiled, “Well, it’s certainly not the blibbering humdingers like I thought. Congratulations Hermione.” Hermione’s eyes were wild as the light disappeared. “Luna… what is that? Please. I…I’m not sure…I’m not sure I understand.” Hermione stuttered; her fingers splayed over her stomach nervously. Luna smiled, “Well surely you understand. It’s a child Hermione.” Luna stated matter-of-factly. Hermione glanced out the window, panic filling her face before she snatched up her wand, aiming it at Luna. “Oh dear…” Luna stepped back; surprise written across her face. “I’m sorry Luna…I just… you can’t know. I need…” Luna lowered her hands and nodded solemnly. “It’s alright Hermione dear, I understand.” She closed her eyes, “Congratulations anyways.” Hermione’s hold on her wand trembled as her eyes darted between Harry and Luna. “Obliviate.” She whispered.
“Hermione,” Memory Harry stepped inside the room. Present Harry remembered this part. Hermione had looked flushed, panic coloring her cheeks. He had chalked it up to the events of the day. Hermione hurriedly put away her wand and frantically glanced between Luna and Harry. “Oh, hello Harry. Did you enjoy your time with Dobby?” Harry tilted his head curiously before nodding. “I suppose I did Luna, thank you.” Luna gave a brief nod, smiling at the both of them before wafting back out the door. “Hermione…can we talk?” Present Harry could see the panic etched in her face as she trembled under his gaze. Back then he hadn’t thought anything of it. He wondered if she was thinking he must have remembered something, but present Harry knew that wasn’t what he had wanted to talk about. Dobby’s death had snapped something inside of him. More and more pieces were shattered and being discarded off to the side with each friend he lost. He had wanted to confess. “Uh…not right now Harry, I’m feeling quite ill.” She didn’t wait, instead brushing by him as she rushed outside the cottage. She was barely out the door when she vomited into a planter.
The memory spit Harry out and he fell back in his chair with a gasp. She had found out about Rosalee the day they escaped Malfoy Manor. Harry pounded his desk with an angry growl. If he had known, they could have leaned on one another. There were so many what ifs that continued to fill his brain the more he watched.
Harry paused leaning forward on his elbows and steepling his fingers over his face. “Harry!” Ginny’s voice called up from the bottom of the stairs. Harry remained where he was, he knew her well enough that she would make her way up here. Sure enough, a few moments later Ginny swung open the office door and stepped inside like she owned the place. “Memories going well I see.” She said, her voice light, a striking contrast from the previous evening. “I’ve just come from Hermione’s. I had some apologies to make and so here I am.” Harry sighed, dropping his hands to the table before placing his forehead down on top of them. “Ginny, you’ve got nothing to apologize for.” He groaned, his voice muffled from the desk. “Actually, I do.” Harry stilled, before lifting his face.
He was tired and he was sure it was written all over his face. His hair stuck out in tufts from the amount of time he shoved his hands through it. His teeth needed a good brushing and honestly, he needed a nap. “You look like shite.” Ginny said with a grimace as she sat down opposite him. “Yes well, life altering moments will do that to a guy.” Ginny nodded and the two of them slipped into an awkward silence. Harry didn’t want to rush her, but he was eager to get back to the memories. “Look Harry. I refuse to take all the blame in this, but I will accept the part I played. I was selfish when it came to you. I knew you weren’t in love with me. I knew that something happened during that winter. I ignored all the signs to pursue what I thought was something I wanted.” Harry remained quiet. “You owed me nothing before you left. We weren’t committed, we weren’t anything more than my girlish hope for a future. I think I was madder at you as my friend, similar to Hermione when the two of you…” She trailed off, a blush creeping up her neck and painting across her freckled cheeks. She cleared her throat, looking anywhere but at him. “Anyways, the bottom-line Harry, is that I’ve held a grudge and harbored some unresolved pain for a while now. That wasn’t fair to you, or Hermione. I’m sorry, and I forgive you. I know now that you were never meant to be mine, nor I yours.” Harry nodded, his throat burning. Ginny studied him as they sat together, he could feel her eyes on him, taking everything in.
Harry cleared his throat before leaning back in his chair. He took his glasses off and placed them on his desk as he rubbed his hands over his face. “I thought.” He started, his voice thick and unsteady. “I thought that if I seen the memories from her perspective, that maybe…just maybe, I would understand why she did it.” Harry opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling as if maybe the answers were written somewhere in the paint. “And?” Ginny asked, “Do you understand?”
He shoved away from the desk, picking up his glasses and haphazardly shoving them on his face, the back of the chair scraping against the wall behind him. “Fuck no. I feel so many things right now. I’m angry, I’m frustrated, I’m confused. I still bloody love the woman despite everything but I’m so angry Ginny. I don’t know that I can forgive her for this.” He stood in front of the window overlooking the street, his hands on his hips as he watched people milling about, “How can I love and hate someone at the same time? Be completely enthralled by them, and disgusted all at once?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder at his ex-wife. For the first time in years, they were friends again, just friends. Gone were the lingering looks, the bitterness, everything. “I can’t answer that for you Harry, but I can tell you, its possible. I went through it with you several times.” She finished with a laugh. “I need to get back to my husband. This isn’t going to be an easy thing, Harry. Far from it, but remember you defeated worse.” Without another word Ginny came over to his side, leaned up on her toes and kissed his cheek. Then, she turned and left.
Harry stayed by the window for a long time, watching as people moved about outside. He wondered if any of them were experiencing a pain like his own, how in the world they were moving around while their hearts were breaking inside their chests. Harry picked up the next vial from his desk. The one labeled with the number 3 and read the inscription. May 1998, the day following the battle. Harry sighed; the day Hermione disappeared from his life. He glanced at the pensieve, deciding he needed a shower before he dove back in.