Chapter Fifteen
Harry spent most of his weekend working on attempting to nail down Voldemort's plan. He had a decent idea for what Voldemort might try and do, but he still couldn't quite figure out how. If he could figure that out, then determining where Voldemort might attempt his trip back in time should be easier based on the circumstances that would be required.
Harry's work was stopped on Monday morning when he was sent an owl from the new Minister of Magic. He set aside his research and Apparated to the Ministry where he was immediately escorted to the Executive Wing and the office of the Minister of Magic. The office itself was mostly empty. There was a desk and a couple of chairs and a lot of empty bookshelves that Harry was certain that Penelope would fill at some point.
Penelope herself was seated at the desk, reading something. As Harry entered the room, Penelope looked up from her reading and smiled.
"Harry Potter, good to see you."
"Morning, Pen-er, Minister."
"Stop it," Penelope said, pointing to the chair in front of her. "Sit. I have a proposition for you."
"What kind of proposition?" Harry asked as he sat down.
"A job offer."
Harry had been worried about this. He knew that Penelope had interest in him working for the Ministry of Magic. Until Voldemort was taken care of, however, Harry had little interest. Still, he had gotten Penelope this far and he wasn't about to turn her down without hearing her out.
"For what job?"
"Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic."
Of all the jobs that Harry could have imagined her offering, that was the last one. In the emergency line of succession, Senior Undersecretary came second. That meant that if something horrible happened to Penelope, Harry would be the interim Minister of Magic.
"No."
"Hear me out."
"I'm sorry, Penelope, but no," Harry repeated. "I have other concerns at the moment."
"You mean Voldemort, the top priority for the Ministry of Magic?"
"I do," Harry said.
"You don't have access to the SAF anymore. Wouldn't you like Ministry resources?"
"No, I wouldn't," Harry replied. "I thought I did, but after the...attack on Diagon Alley, I realize that taking care of this on my own is going to be safer for everyone."
"What about Junior Undersecretary?"
"What?"
"You could be Junior Undersecretary?" Penelope suggested. "A little less responsibility, but you'd still be involved."
"You're serious?"
"I told you on Friday that I want you here. I know that taking down Voldemort is your top priority and it should be. But I also know that I need you here."
"You don't."
"I do," Penelope said firmly. "You got me this far."
"And that's great. I'm happy that you're Minister, but I don't have any interest in working for the Ministry."
"You wouldn't be working for the Ministry. You'd be working for me."
"What's the difference?"
"I'm not going to ask you to play politics," Penelope said. "You'd be my advisor."
"Get Hermione for that."
"I already have."
"What?"
"She accepted a job on Friday evening," Penelope said with a knowing smile. "I told her to keep it quiet until I got you on board."
"Why didn't you ask me Friday?"
"You would have said no."
"I'm saying no now."
"No, you're not."
"Really? I'm pretty sure that I said no," Harry replied. "No. There, I said it again."
"Harry."
"What!?" Harry exclaimed.
Penelope smiled. "Take the job."
"Fine!" Harry shouted. It took a moment but Harry finally realized what he had said. He also noticed that Penelope had given him a moment to realize what he had said. That meant that she was also giving him time to recant his answer.
"Fine," Harry said instead. "I will...be the Junior Undersecretary."
With a smile on her face, Penelope aimed her wand at the door. The door opened to reveal Hermione, Cho Chang, Amelia Bones, Tonks, and Daphne standing behind it.
"Come in," Penelope said as she conjured more chairs for them to sit on. Harry was uncertain what exactly was going on, but he remained seated as the other women entered the room and took their seats.
"Thank you all for coming to the first meeting of the Small Council," Penelope said. "Allow me to introduce everyone. Hermione Granger, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic."
Hermione gave Harry a small smile as she nodded to the rest of the room. Harry realized that Penelope had clearly offered Harry the Senior Undersecretary job first, knowing that he wouldn't accept it, so that he would accept the Junior Undersecretary position. As much as that infuriated him, he had to admit that he was impressed.
"Harry Potter, Junior Undersecretary and Chief Advisor to the Minister of Magic."
"Hey, I didn't agree-"
"Cho Chang, Ambassador to the Wizengamot. Amelia Bones, Head of the DMLE. Nymphadora Tonks, Head Auror. Daphne Greengrass, Head of the Special Activities Force. I would like to note that this is the most women that have ever been in this particular meeting before."
"Way to ruin it, Harry," Daphne whispered behind him.
"Speaking of Harry," Penelope said more firmly, "there is something related to him that we need to address."
"There is?" Harry said. He felt like he'd been on his heels all morning and that feeling was only getting worse.
"There is," Penelope confirmed. "While Harry will be serving as the Junior Undersecretary, he'll be doing so on a part time basis until the Voldemort threat is taken care of."
"You're authorizing Potter to act on his own?" Amelia asked.
"I'm operating with the understanding that regardless of however I personally feel on the matter, Harry will continue to conduct his own investigation into Voldemort's actions. He'll do so even if it means risking his own neck or the potential of legal action. However, what I cannot authorize without the consent of everyone in this room is his ability to act on that investigation."
"You're saying that I can look into Voldemort, but should I find something, I can't do anything about it?" Harry asked.
"Currently, that is the case," Penelope admitted. "Even if you had refused the job that I offered you, your removal from the SAF meant that you lost your diplomatic immunity."
"I do have the information on that that you requested, Minister," Cho said.
"Well, let's hear it."
"I spent most of the weekend looking through the laws and codes that govern the Ministry."
"Exciting weekend," Tonks muttered, causing Cho to glare at her.
"I found a provision in one of the new codes that allows the Minister of Magic to create legal exemptions for people as long as specific guidelines are met."
"Would that include murder?" Penelope asked.
"It would. However, you would need to specify the person in question and a timeline lasting no longer than 90 days for the exemption to be fulfilled. If that timeline is not met, it would be another year before the exemption could be implemented."
"What you're saying is that I would have three months to kill Voldemort legally, but that if I failed, I would have to wait an entire year before it could be made legal again?"
"I didn't write the code, but that is the interpretation as I read it," Cho confirmed.
Harry had to admit that he didn't like the idea of going to jail for killing Voldemort, but he was ready to do so if that's what needed to happen. He hoped that there would be a way to get him out of going to Azkaban though. He wasn't really interested in a long stay with the dementors.
"This is the question at hand," Penelope stated. "Do we authorize Harry to act on the information that he finds?"
"I say that we should," Hermione stated.
"So do I," Daphne added.
"I'm also in favor," Cho confirmed.
That left Amelia and Tonks as the two holdouts. He couldn't say that he blamed them for their reluctance to support this. Tonks in particular was clearly still thinking about Harry's actions at Dumbledore's funeral and the direct consequences that had led to the deaths of almost fifty people. For Amelia, Harry had more than once sided against her in the political arena. This would be a great opportunity for her to stick it to Harry, although he hoped that she would understand that this subject was not a matter for political games. This was about the future of their people.
"What exactly would you be authorizing?" Tonks asked Penelope.
"I would be giving Harry the legal protection to kill Lord Voldemrot," Penelope said simply.
"Nothing more than that?"
"No," Penelope replied. "The expectation would be that if there are any Death Eaters in his way, he would need to find a non-lethal solution for taking care of them."
He knew that would make his job harder, but if that's what it took to get legal protection, he would do it. Tonks, however, was clearly still unsure.
"Tonks," Harry said softly, "I know that you're...conflicted about this."
"I am," Tonks admitted. "You endangered everyone with that stunt that you pulled at Dumbledore's funeral. People died because of it."
"I know," Harry said regretfully. "This isn't that. I'm not leading a team anymore and I'm not dragging anyone else into this. This is me getting to him. That's it."
"You're not pulling anyone else into this?" Tonks scoffed. "You honestly think that you can sit here and convince me that Ron and Hermione aren't going to be helping you with this?"
"That's their choice," Harry replied. "Besides, they would only be helping me with the investigation and only if they choose. In the end, it's going to be me that kills him. No one else."
"I'm in favor," Amelia said suddenly. When Harry instinctively looked at her in surprise, she glared at him. "The last thing the Minister needs is her most popular supporter arrested for murdering the Dark Lord, if you can even do it."
"Thanks for the show of confidence."
"If I didn't think it were possible, I would be telling the Minister to shut down your investigation entirely," Amelia replied. "I've seen enough of your skill with a wand to know that it's possible if you're given the opportunity. Just make sure that you do it right."
"I will," Harry said before he turned back to Tonks.
"I want to have faith in you, Harry, I really do," Tonks said. "I just don't know how to do that right now. I'm not going to stand in the way of the Minister authorizing this, but I can't support it either."
"I understand," Harry said sadly. Tonks had been part of the reason that Harry had even had a place with the SAF to begin with. Her clear lack of faith in his decision-making hurt Harry far more than he had expected. Still, it was clear that the rest of the room was in agreement.
Penelope nodded and then looked to Cho.
"Write up the language and have it on my desk by the end of the day," Penelope ordered. "Harry, you have three months to find him and kill him. Anything longer than that and your fate is out of my hands."
"I understand."
Harry spent most of the rest of the day in meetings at the Ministry, the very last thing that he would have expected when he woke up that morning. At the end of the day, he was shown to his office. Per tradition, the Senior and Junior Undersecretary shared an office with a meeting room in between their private offices.
As Harry walked into the combined offices, he noticed Hermione walking out of her new office.
"You couldn't have warned me?" Harry joked as Hermione noticed him.
"She asked me not to say anything," Hermione replied. "Honestly, I think that she was still debating whether or not to offer you a job in the first place."
"What makes you say that?"
"She asked me whether she should offer you a job."
"What did you say?" Harry asked.
"I told her that you would probably say no to whatever she asked first. But if she was dead set on hiring you-"
"Then she should offer me something less," Harry rolled his eyes. Of course it had been Hermione who had known just how to get Harry to say yes. "That's exactly what she did. She offered me your job."
"Already taken," Hermione grinned. "Thanks for that, by the way."
"Thanks for what?"
"She said that you told her to hire me."
"She wouldn't have needed that advice. Unless the next Minister was Theodore Nott, they were all going to try and hire you."
"Percy might have tried to fire me."
"Fair point," Harry replied. "So, what are we doing for dinner tonight?"
Immediately, Hermione's face dropped.
"What?"
"I forgot to tell you, didn't I?" Hermione asked.
"Tell me what?"
"I'm having dinner with my parents tonight," Hermione replied. "They've been pestering me for weeks and the transition offered me a few lighter days so that I could go visit with them."
"That sounds great!" Harry replied. "Were you worried to tell me?"
"No, no! I just...I've enjoyed having dinner with you."
"Me too," Harry assured her quickly.
"Mom and Dad are great. They just...they want to know everything and it's really tough to explain to them what's going on. Plus, they keep bothering me about getting a boyfriend."
"Well, just tell them that I moved in with you."
"Oh, don't get them started on that. They're convinced that we're going to get married."
"They're not the only ones," Harry said.
"I know it," Hermione replied. "It seems like every time I mention you, someone comments that we should go out on a date."
"Same."
Silence with Hermione was normally fine. She was one of the few people that it never felt awkward with. This was an awkward silence. They just stood there and smiled at each other, neither of them quite sure what to say.
"Why can't people accept that we're just friends?" Hermione asked.
"I don't know, although if they knew what we did in our free time, they'd probably bring it up even more."
"Yeah, let's never let anyone find out about that."
"Agreed," Harry said just as the clock on the wall struck six.
"Well, I've got to go meet Mom and Dad. I'll see you tonight?"
"Sure," Harry replied.
"Great!" Hermione said as she walked out the door.
Harry returned to Potter Manor to briefly organize his research but found that he couldn't focus. The day had been longer than he had expected and he needed to mentally destress from what had been a surprising turn of events. Harry had always said that he had no interest in working at the Ministry. The truth was that he had no interest in working at the Ministry while it was under the leadership of people like Percy or Fudge or even Amelia herself. Now, with Penelope in charge, Harry wasn't against the idea, especially since he still had the flexibility to continue his investigation into Voldemort.
Harry really had no interest in spending his evening alone, he realized. As time had passed since his return, Harry's tendency to avoid people had dwindled. Now, he was actively seeking out people in a way that he just hadn't in the past. He'd gone to dinner with Ron twice the week before, he spent most of his time with Hermione now, and he'd even gone over to Ginny and Katie's house in London the week before while they were both on their rare weekends off.
Unfortunately, as Harry thought about the people that he could spend time with, he realized that they were all busy. Ron was out on a date with Susan, Ginny and Katie were both in the middle of Quidditch season, and Hermione was with her parents. He might have considered reaching out to Neville, but he knew that Neville was in the middle of his apprenticeship with Professor Sprout.
That's when Harry realized that there was someone else that was probably alone tonight: Daphne. She was still staying at Grimmauld Place and as far as Harry knew, she had gone back there after work. Harry quickly wrote a note to Daphne which he threw in his office fireplace. That fireplace was connected to the fireplace in the living room of Grimmauld Place. A moment later, Harry got confirmation from Daphne that she was home and that she was fine with him coming over.
Harry smiled and then stepped through the fireplace where he was greeted by Daphne's voice.
"Over here!"
In the far corner of the room, Daphne sat with stacks of paper and parchment surrounding her at a desk that she had pulled out of the library.
"Hello, Mr. Junior Undersecretary," Daphne said with a smile. "Take a seat."
"Don't mind if I do, Miss Head of the SAF," Harry said as he Summoned a chair from across the room. "What is all this?"
"This...is the research that Parvati left behind on Antonin Dolohov," Daphne said, motioning to almost everything on the desk. "The rest of it is a summary of what each SAF member is working on. Penelope only offered me the job yesterday, so it's going to take me a minute to get caught up."
"Hey, at least she gave you a full day. She asked me to be Junior Undersecretary about three minutes before you all walked in the door."
"Seriously?" Daphne replied.
"Why do you think I was in there with her alone?"
"That's...actually not that surprising," Daphne admitted. "Penelope certainly marches to the beat of her own drum. I can see why you supported her."
"I can't take credit for that. She came to me," Harry said. "She told me that if I supported her, she'd make the motion to get rid of Percy."
"But you still had to decide to support her," Daphne pointed out. "You could have just told her to shove it."
"I nearly did," Harry admitted. "She didn't necessarily have glowing reviews from everyone."
"What made you support her then?"
"My gut? I'm not certain. There was just something about her that made me believe that she would be a good person to follow."
"You recognized a kindred spirit."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
"That's how people feel about you," Daphne replied. "It's why I joined The Legion in the first place. If it had been led by anyone else, I never would have considered it. But even from a distance, I could tell that you were the right kind of person to follow."
"I'm not always so sure about that."
"You're the only one," Daphne argued. "The only people that don't follow you are the ones who don't agree with you. Honestly, if you shared their beliefs, they'd align with you just as quickly as everyone else does. You've just got that...thing, you know?"
"I don't."
"You make people believe that you care about them."
"I do?" Harry said in disbelief. More than once, he'd been told the exact opposite, that he didn't care what anyone thought about him. He'd even agreed with that assessment.
"We all know that you're a bit more pragmatic than you used to be, but ultimately, you care about people. It's why you do what you do. You're willing to put yourself out there for people that you don't even know. It makes you an easy person to follow. That doesn't mean that everyone always agreed with you, especially not the people who know you best, but even when you're wrong, they forgive you for that because they trust you and because they believe that you have their best interests at heart."
Harry was stunned. He liked Daphne, especially as he'd gotten to spend some time with her, but he had no idea that she thought so highly of him. He didn't know what exactly to say.
"Thanks," Harry said bashfully, settling on that as the only thing that made sense to say. "Well, while you're working, I'm going to make dinner."
"You're making dinner?"
"Didn't I say that we were having dinner?"
"You did, but I figured you would just order food from somewhere."
"You've seen the size of my kitchen, right?" Harry asked. "Did you think that was unintentional?"
"You like cooking, I take it?"
"I do," Harry replied. "It relaxes me."
"Well, then by all means, cook away."
There were two reasons why Harry liked cooking. The first was, as he'd already mentioned, that it was relaxing. There was something almost meditative about cooking a good meal, especially when he was going to share it with a friend. Even if it was something as simple as pasta, there was something connective about food, something that tied him to other people. Considering the life that he led, there were very few things that truly connected him to others.
The other reason that Harry liked cooking was that it was a way for him to reclaim a part of his youth. Harry spent almost all of his childhood with a family that hated him. By the time he was eight, he cooked breakfast for the family most mornings and if it wasn't perfect, he was forced to eat whatever he had ruined after he made it better for The Dursleys.
Over the years, Harry got so good at cooking that The Dursleys had to invent new ways for him to ruin food. They would shut off the power to the kitchen in the middle of breakfast, turning off the lights, forcing Harry to cook in the dark. On other occasions, they'd forced Harry to clean the dishes while he was cooking. During his last summer, The Dursleys had practically given up trying to distract Harry. The last time they had tried it, Harry had delivered four perfect omelettes while being forced to repeatedly check the weather for Uncle Vernon. While he was away from the pan, Petunia had dropped an entire egg shell into one of the omelettes, clearly hoping that Harry wouldn't notice.
Instead, Harry delivered Petunia's omelette on one place and every piece of eggshell on the other. That had earned him a beating from Uncle Vernon and Dudley before he'd been locked in his room for the better part of a week. Two days later, Harry had walked out of 4 Privet Drive for the last time.
Tonight, Harry would keep dinner simple: chicken and angel hair pasta with tomato sauce. Unlike every other magical person that he knew, Harry cooked entirely the Muggle way. It was one of the few things in his life that he did without using any magic. He cut the chicken into slices, dipped those slices into flour and breadcrumbs, and then fried them in oil on the stove top. At the same time, he boiled the pasta with some oil and salt while he blended some tomatoes and spices into a sauce. The key to all of these dishes was the spices which Harry would add at the very end for flavoring.
Twenty minutes later, Harry set two plates down on the kitchen table. The moment the plate hit the table, Daphne practically leapt up from her seat and made her way to the kitchen.
"You made this?"
"It wasn't hard," Harry responded.
"It looks wonderful."
"Well, let's hope it tastes as good as it looks," Harry said, fairly confident that it would.
Thankfully, it did taste just as good as it looked. The next few minutes were spent in silence, the only sounds being that of forks and knives scraping against the plates. When they were finished, each of them pushed their plates to the center of the table, perfectly satisfied.
"That was outstanding," Daphne remarked. "Honestly, that was one of the best meals I've ever had."
"I'm glad," Harry replied, a smile plastered on his face. "Did you not have many home cooked meals at The Greengrass Estate?"
"Everything was made by the elves," Daphne said nervously. "The kitchen was staffed with six elves. The food was always great. It's just…"
"Hard knowing that your food is the result of slave labor," Harry added. "It's the one memory of Hogwarts that's a bit tainted for me. I remember my first meal there vividly. Three years later, I learned that house elves were responsible for all of it. At the time, I didn't think much of it, but as the years have passed-"
"It just makes you feel dirty."
Harry nodded. "Hermione would love to be here for this conversation. Two people talking about elves rights."
"Do you think that's something that Penelope will address?"
"I hope so," Harry said. "I know that the elves love their way of life, but there need to be provisions in place to protect them."
"Definitely."
"So, how are the investigations going?" Harry asked. "I know that I kind of stopped following up about those once we learned what Voldemort was doing."
"It made sense. You were after Voldemort, not necessarily the Death Eaters. Unfortunately, there's not much information. We've been looking diligently for weeks and it seems that the Death Eaters have moved underground. Personally, I expected to hear something after Voldemort's attack on Diagon Alley, but there's been nothing."
"Do you think they're planning something?"
"Other than what Voldemort's working on?" Daphne asked. "I don't know. Maybe? We knew they were being led by the five, but Snape is in prison and...my father is dead."
"I'm sorry about that."
"No, you're not," Daphne said bluntly. "My father was a cruel, horrible man. He got what he deserved. That doesn't make it easier to accept."
"I suppose not," Harry replied. "Do you ever regret joining the Aurors?"
Daphne gave him a curious look.
"What do you mean? Why would I regret joining the Aurors?"
"Well, for starters, you live here now," Harry pointed out. "But your career basically destroyed your family life and I don't imagine it's done wonders for your personal life either."
"No," Daphne laughed, "it has not."
"So, if you could go back and do it again, would you join the Aurors?"
Daphne leaned back in her chair, considering Harry's question. When she did finally respond, her answer was not exactly direct.
"When I first came to Hogwarts, I was all about Slytherin. I was exactly what you would expect from a Pureblood Slytherin first year. I believed that Muggles were worthless and that Muggleborn were just a step above that. I firmly believed that families like mine and The Malfoys and The Notts should run the world."
"That was true until our second year when The Chamber of Secrets was opened. I had always told myself that Muggleborn were lesser because they didn't know our history. But no one had told me about The Chamber of Secrets. I learned about it from Pansy Parkinson. Her father had told her about it years ago. It was a bedtime story for her family. The version her father told her ended with Salazar Slytherin rising from the dead and murdering all the Muggleborn."
"Merlin," Harry grimaced.
"I had spent most of my first two years aspiring to be the best student in our class, only to get my ass routinely kicked by Hermione Granger. I never told my father that. I told him that my grades were very good, one of the best in the school. I never said that I was regularly losing to a Muggleborn and I realized that was because he would think less of me. At first, I hated Hermione for that but as the years passed, I realized that it was stupid for being blamed for coming in second to someone like Hermione. She had come to Hogwarts with a clear disadvantage and yet she'd still gotten better grades than everyone."
"It was fifth year that changed everything. I had already been drifting further away from the likes of Malfoy and Bulstrode when Umbridge came to Hogwarts. It was immediately apparent to anyone that wasn't a total idiot that Voldemort was back. But it was people like Lucius Malfoy, someone who I knew was a close friend of my father's, who put her in power."
"Did you ever consider joining Dumbledore's Army?"
Daphne chuckled. "I wasn't quite brave enough for that. Dumbledore's Army was an open secret. We all knew about it, even if no one talked about it. But with Malfoy running around with his stupid fucking Inquisitorial Squad Badge on, it would have been a death sentence for me. The only reason that I was able to join The Legion was because Malfoy was gone and Tracey and Pansy were willing to join me."
"You didn't answer my question," Harry pointed out.
"I know," Daphne replied. "It's been hard. I love my sister. I loved my father and my friends. But I can't sit by and just do nothing while people are being forced to live lives that keep them down. Would I join the Aurors again? Absolutely. It's meant everything to me. I'd like to think that I'm making a difference. In the end, I think it will be worth it."
Harry and Daphne spent the next few hours talking about her time in Slytherin (she loved the common room, hated the people), his time in Gryffindor (loved the common room and most of the people), along with what Daphne wanted to do with the rest of her life (her goal was to become the Head Auror someday, but she also knew that Tonks wasn't a particularly political person, so she might have to "settle" for Head of the DMLE). Finally, Harry looked up at the clock and realized that it was almost midnight. Knowing that they both had to get up for work in the morning, Harry bid Daphne a good night and returned to Hermione's apartment.
When he landed in the living room, Harry was surprised to see that Hermione was still awake. She sat in her cozy chair in the corner of the living room, reading a book. This wasn't unusual. Hermione read all the time. However, Harry noticed that the book was a Muggle fictional book, something that he didn't see her read often. She only pulled that kind of book out when she was feeling particularly stressed and needed a way to unwind.
"Have a good dinner with your parents?" Harry asked as he took a seat on the couch.
"It was fine."
Harry immediately knew that it was not fine. Typically, Hermione loved going to dinner with her parents. The few times that Harry had been around after she had gone to visit her family, she'd come back talking nonstop about what her parents were doing, what her cousins were doing, hell, she'd even spent two hours telling him a story about what her great-great-aunt had been doing in Alaska despite the fact that she lived in New Mexico, Harry had never met her, and likely would never meet her.
So Harry knew that her silence meant that dinner had not gone well at all. If he were anyone else and she were anyone else, he would have left it alone. But they had a pact. It was never one that they articulated out loud, but they both knew that if one of them was struggling, they could talk to the other.
"How did it go?" Harry asked. His tone of voice suggested that he knew that she was lying without seeming belligerent about it. It was an invitation to talk, nothing more.
"My mother is...an unbelievable woman," Hermione sighed in frustration.
"She raised you."
"She did," Hermione admitted. "We're very similar, but that means that she...gets in these moods where she just knows what's right for everyone."
Harry grinned. "I can't say that I've ever known anyone else like that."
"Shut up," Hermione replied, although the smile in her eyes told Harry that she was in on the joke. "We went to this nice Italian place in Chelsea. Great food, nice music. It was a good time."
"Except?"
"Except we got through dinner and desert and things were going great," Hermione said. "Then, she leaned forward, looked me dead in the eye, and asked why I had come alone."
"I don't understand."
"I hadn't told my parents that I had broken up with Nathaniel," Hermione admitted. "It had been such a brief thing that I totally forgot that I had even told them about him. Of course, at that point, I had to admit that we had broken up weeks ago. There was this really awkward silence that just hung there between the three of us. My parents know that I don't tell them everything. They know that I have a fairly high ranking job at the Ministry, especially for someone my age. They know that my job is important and that it's taken a lot of hard work to get there."
"But they don't understand how much danger you're in," Harry stated.
"They don't," Hermione said. "They don't have a clue. To be honest, they don't understand most of my life, but that's the part that they never really grasped. They think Voldemort is just a bad guy with a funny name. They don't understand, no matter how many times I try to tell them, that he's the biggest threat to our world and theirs. And that's the problem: as much as I want to pretend that I'm a Muggle, as much as I want to pretend that I still live in their world, I don't and every time that realization hits them in the face, like it did at dinner tonight, they just...look at me different, like I'm someone that they don't even know."
"And they don't. They don't have any idea who I am. I tell them the good things. I'm talented and intelligent and resourceful and they know all of that. But they don't know that I trapped a woman in a jar for the better part of three months for spying on me. They don't know that I've hurt people to protect the ones that I love, to protect them."
"Of course, my father, the big, dumb, brilliant idiot that he is, he tries to break the tension. He asks how you're doing. It's an innocent question, although one that's a bit more complicated than he knows. I open my mouth to say something and my mother mentions that I should have brought you with me."
"Oh, Merlin," Harry mumbled.
"I just...it's been a stressful last few weeks," Hermione said. "I know that everyone looks at us like we're dating. I know that the way that we act around each other doesn't necessarily make that any easier for us to deny. But I'm just tired of people speculating about us all the time. My mother, who I love dearly but has met you three times, thinks that we should get married."
"Did she say that?"
"She said that you were a very nice, young man and that they always liked you."
"That doesn't sound that good."
"She doesn't know you. She knows you from the stories that I tell her. If we're being honest, most of my stories are about you."
"Yeah."
Harry didn't know what else to say. As each day passed, his feelings for Hermione were growing more and more complicated. Even if he had dared say something to her before, he knew that now wasn't the time. She was clearly frustrated by everyone's constant prodding into her life and Harry revealing that he had spent a great deal of time considering the notion that everyone else was right about them was probably not something that she wanted to hear at the moment.
"You know that I love you, right?" Hermione suddenly said.
Harry looked up at her and saw that she was staring at him in a way that he'd never seen from her before. She looked serious and tense and exasperated while at the same time showing him just how much love she had for him. That look surprised him so much that, for just a moment, he didn't know what exactly to say.
Once he recovered, however, he gave the only response that he knew how.
"I know," Harry replied softly. "I love you, too."
"Are we avoiding something?" Hermione asked him. Harry's heart raced. "I know that I'm very intelligent and you're no idiot. But we've spent years telling everyone that there was nothing going on between us. Meanwhile, everyone else seems so certain that we're going to get married."
"Yeah."
"Is it possible?"
"What?" Harry asked dumbly.
"Is it possible that they're right and we're wrong?"
If there'd ever been a moment in his life where he was more afraid of getting an answer wrong, he couldn't remember it. He stared at her from across the room and considered the person sitting in front of him. He knew that she was the most important person in his life. He knew that she'd been the most important person in his life for years. He would have bet all the money left in his vault that ten, twenty, or fifty years from now, she would still be the most important person in his life.
Was it so crazy to consider that he would fall in love with that person?
"It's possible," Harry admitted softly, his voice just loud enough so that it crossed the room.
"It's possible," Hermione repeated after him.
Now what? What could possibly come next for two people who had spent years denying every accusation, every suggestion, every idea, notion, or possibility that they were in love?
"Have dinner with me tomorrow," Hermione said suddenly.
"We have dinner together every night."
"I mean...have dinner...with me tomorrow night."
A date.
She was asking him to go on a date with her.
Harry hadn't been on a date in years, unless you counted those miserable experiences that he had with Parvati, which he desperately tried not to. The only other dates that he'd been on were with Parvati only a few weeks after he'd returned from training the very first time. After that, they'd both been too busy for much more than dinner at Potter Manor.
That was the less important part. The fact that someone, anyone was asking him on a date would have been surprising and terrifying enough.
But this was Hermione who was asking him.
"Sure."
"Where do you want to go?"
He had no idea. This was insane. What were they doing? They were going on a date?
"There's a pub a few blocks from the Ministry," Harry said. "It's nothing fancy, but it's not a place where anyone is going to recognize us."
Hermione smiled. "Sounds perfect."
They were going on a date.
Immediately, Harry walked towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Hermione asked.
"I can't stay here tonight."
"Why not?"
"Because if I stay here tonight, then I'll freak out and bail on you."
"No, you won't."
"How do you know?" Harry pleaded. He was, for the first time in a long time, genuinely afraid. Over the years, fear had become just a part of his life. On a day to day basis, Harry lived with more fear than any normal person would dare dream of.
But this? This was fear on a level that Harry hadn't felt in years, not since he'd stood in front of Quirrell and The Mirror of Erised.
Hermione stood and approached Harry. She stopped just in front of him and gently placed a hand on the side of his face.
"Because you are Harry. I know you. I know you're frightened...I am too. So, stay with me and we'll be frightened together."
It was a horrible idea, one of Hermione's worst. She was the reason that he was afraid. Why would staying with her make it better? But the moment Harry asked the question, he knew the answer.
Because Hermione made everything better.
Immediately, Harry relaxed and nodded, indicating that he would stay. He was still afraid. Afraid of tomorrow and what it would bring. But as he climbed into bed, ready to stare at the ceiling for several hours, he was comforted by the thought that Hermione was on the other side of the wall, doing the exact same thing.
And that made everything better.