Chapter Sixteen
Harry arrived at The Ministry at just after eight the following morning. By eight-thirty, he remembered why he hadn't wanted to work at The Ministry. He had negotiated with Penelope so that he only had to be at The Ministry one full day a week. Every other day, he would arrive early and then leave by ten in order to return to Potter Manor and continue his work on tracking down and stopping Lord Voldemort.
Unfortunately, that meant that Harry spent most of his two hours at The Ministry in meetings with some of the newer Department Heads. Outside of his responsibility to take down Voldemort, Harry's actual job was relatively simple: it was his office's responsibility to coordinate with the various Department Heads to ensure that their Departments were running smoothly. This meant that if someone had a problem, they came to Harry before they got to Penelope. Personally, Harry hated the idea, but Penelope knew that Harry wanted nothing to do with the Wizengamot, so this was how she was choosing to use him. While Harry didn't regret agreeing to the position, he knew that it would be a long time before he felt comfortable and even longer (if ever) before he enjoyed it.
At just a few minutes before ten, Harry was seated in his office, going through a list of potential candidates for his new assistant. Since he was going to be spending a significant amount of time out of the office, he knew that he would need someone to help keep his office organized. In fact, he would likely need several people, but he would start with just one.
Just before Harry was getting ready to finish up for the day and return to Potter Manor, he looked up to see Tonks walking into his office. Harry opened his mouth to make a joke when he noticed a rather surly look on Tonks's face.
"Is everything alright?" Harry asked as Tonks took a seat in front of him.
"I'm not sure," Tonks admitted. "How are you liking the new job?"
"It's...it'll take some getting used to," Harry replied. "I'm still not entirely certain that I'm suited for this kind of work."
"You might hate politics, but no one can deny that you understand them," Tonks replied. "From what I hear, you were pretty instrumental in getting Penelope her job."
"I helped, but she was the one who did most of the work."
"And that's why she's where she is and you are where you are," Tonks commented.
"Right," Harry replied.
"Hey, have you seen Parvati anytime recently?" Tonks asked suddenly.
"Not really. I talked to her briefly at the memorial party the night before Dumbledore's service. Other than that, the last time that I saw her was the day that she resigned."
"Good."
"Good?" Harry asked.
Tonks nodded and then turned over her shoulder and waved her wand at the door to his office, which slammed shut. When she turned back, Harry noticed that she had a folder in her hand which she quickly set on his desk.
"Before you open this, understand that you aren't supposed to see it."
"I don't understand."
"The Aurors operate differently than the rest of the Ministry. While even other offices in the DMLE report to Amelia who then reports to you, the Aurors don't. When our office is involved, Amelia goes straight to the Minister of Magic."
"So, I'm not involved in Auror business?" Harry said. He wasn't offended, just trying to learn what was and wasn't his responsibility.
"Technically, the Minister has the right to delegate to either you or Hermione, but since she's been on the job for thirty-six hours, we aren't really there yet," Tonks replied. "About two hours ago, the Auror Office received a tip that a building in Knockturn Alley that is widely known to be used for counterfeit goods was on fire. When the team of Aurors arrived on the scene, they found the front of the building blown completely off. Inside, there were more than a dozen people, all of them dead."
"Who were they?" Harry asked.
"Smugglers, con artists, that sort. All of them had been convicted of at least one prior offense and more than one had spent some time in Azkaban. However, that's not necessarily that important, at least not to you. What is important is the method of death. In the room were three women and eleven men. The three women had all very clearly been killed quickly-"
"Wait a minute, you mean they weren't killed by the fire?"
"No," Tonks said grimly. "The fire appeared to have been set after they'd been killed. As I was saying, the three women all had been pierced in the chest. They likely died instantly. The men in the room, however, were...I suppose bludgeoned is the right word. It looks like they'd all taken massive blows in the chest until they were killed."
That's when Tonks opened the file on the table. Instead of horrifying pictures or a layout of the crime scene like Harry had expected, it was just a compilation of lists. For each person that was killed, there was a list of known associates under their names.
There was only one name common to all of them: Antonin Dolohov.
"Merlin," Harry muttered as his heart sank.
The women had been pierced in the chest and the men bludgeoned.
Just like Mr. and Mrs. Patil.
The front of the building had been blown off.
Just like Parvati's house.
"This is why I wanted to know if you had any contact with her," Tonks explained, understanding that Harry had put the pieces together. "First, The Ministry can't afford you having any contact with her."
"She's your prime suspect?"
"Until I have more information, she's our only suspect," Tonks replied. "As it is, if people make this connection, and it is highly likely that someone will, your relationship with her is going to go front and center."
"There's no relationship. We broke up weeks ago."
"Do you think The Prophet is going to care about that?"
"Fair enough," Harry admitted as he leaned back in his chair. He desperately wanted this to be something other than exactly what it looked like. These people weren't Death Eaters. They weren't good people, sure, but that didn't mean that they deserved to die. Even Harry at his most bloodthirsty had drawn the line at Death Eaters.
"Has anyone been in contact with her?" Harry asked.
Tonks shook her head. "I talked to Padma before I came to you. Padma said that she heard from her early last week and she seemed fine."
"When I talked to her last, I thought there was something off about her."
"What do you mean?"
"She said that she was walking away from the Aurors because Dolohov had consumed her life. She made it seem like she was leaving it all behind, but there was just...I don't know...it was a vibe that she was giving off? Something that just felt wrong."
"This is not your fault."
Despite what Tonks had just told him, Harry laughed.
"I know that I have a lot to feel guilty about. This is not one of them. I desperately don't want this to be true and if it is, I'll do everything that I can to help her, but this is not my fault."
"Harry Potter isn't blaming himself for someone else's problems, that's progress," Tonks replied.
"I prefer to be blamed for the things that are actually my fault," Harry said. Both he and Tonks knew that he was referencing the events that had occurred in Diagon Alley just a few days earlier. Out of everyone, Tonks had taken Harry's failure the hardest, likely because she (in a twist of irony)probably believed that it was at least partially her fault.
Harry made a mental note to remind her that just like Parvati's actions were his doing, his actions weren't Tonk's either.
"We're not releasing anything public yet until we can find her," Tonks said, ignoring Harry's comment. "We have no witnesses, no evidence that links it to her."
"Other than the location, the people, the connections, and the method of death?"
"Circumstantial evidence," Tonks replied. "For all we know, someone is trying to frame her. I'm a good Auror. Give me an hour and I could use that same evidence to convince the Wizengamot that you killed them."
"Right."
Tonks sighed and then stood.
"We don't do a good job of helping with the hard stuff, do we?"
"What do you mean?"
"The Ministry, The Aurors, everyone: it's really easy to help when someone is hurt, physically, I mean. The Ministry has a great program for ensuring your health if you're hurt while on duty. Parvati was fine, physically anyway."
"And she was hurting more than any of us."
Tonks nodded. "I didn't do anything about it."
"I did what I could," Harry said. "But I could only offer her so much. I had my own issues to deal with."
"Had?"
"Have," Harry corrected. "You're right, though. We should do better."
"We should," Tonks agreed. "How are you doing?"
"I'm good."
"Really?"
Harry paused for a moment, then nodded. "He's still out there. I won't be good until he's gone. But, I'm as good as I can be."
"Good," Tonks replied. "About the other day with Penelope-"
"Forget about it," Harry said. "You had and still have every reason not to trust me. I'll regain that trust one day, I hope."
Tonks smiled, something that was becoming rarer with each passing day.
"The only reason you even have a chance is because I know that you were trying to do the right thing."
"Just went about it the wrong way."
"That's the gist of it, yeah," Tonks agreed. "It doesn't help that it was partially my fault."
"No, it wasn't," Harry said strongly.
"You were working in my department. I should have kept a closer eye on you."
"I knew what I was doing and I intentionally circumvented you," Harry countered. "This was my fault and my fault alone."
"You really like blaming yourself for things, don't you?"
"Used to be that I did it all the time. Now, I try to reserve it for when things really are my fault. This is one of those times."
"Well, try to make sure that it doesn't happen again."
"I'll do my best."
Knowing that if he stuck around any longer he'd get trapped in another meeting, Harry Apparated back to Potter Manor the moment that Tonks left his office. Over the next several hours, Harry spent his time going through some of the information that the Ukranain Ministry had sent on Cerny's research. Additionally, he now had access to some of the information that the Department of Mysteries had gleaned about time travel over the years.
From what Harry could tell (although Harry was by no means an expert), Cerny had been right. Time travel, real time travel with the ability to affect the past, was possible. However, the circumstances for its success were so incredibly specific that it was nearly impossible to imagine that anyone would be able to pull it off. First, you needed an incredible amount of magical power, more power than any single person could possibly have. Then, you needed a way to actually travel back in time. Thus far, only one methodology had worked for any distance that would allow you to make any real changes.
When Eloise Mintumble had traveled back in time, she'd done so by creating a rift, a portal that opened to a specific moment and place in time. However, the rift had closed only seconds after she had entered it. At the time, everyone had believed that Mintumble had been lost in time forever. In truth, the device they had used to create the rift had expended all of its available magic simply sending her back.
It took five days to open the rift again.
When they did, the Unspeakables realized that the rift had still lacked the sufficient power to send Mintumble back in time stably. The resulting effects both to Mintumble but also to time itself resulted in a worldwide ban on any sort of experimentation that attempted to manipulate time in such a way.
Voldemort, of course, didn't give a damn about any ban and if there was anyone who was gifted enough to figure out where the original experiment had gone wrong, it was Voldemort.
Harry was in the middle of an article that supposed that someone could go back in time by generating incredible levels of speed, a theory that Harry found laughable even after everything that he'd read, when Ron walked into his office.
"Have you been to see Hermione today?" Ron asked as he leaned over Harry's desk, clearly trying to read what Harry was reading.
"I have not," Harry said, his head still buried in the article. While the article itself was utter lunacy, it was better than letting Ron see that he was blushing.
He'd done everything that he could to push his attention away from Hermione. While he was excited for their date, he knew that if he started thinking about it, he was going to panic, much like he had the night before. In a sense, he was glad that he had new work at The Ministry to keep his mind off anything Hermione related.
So, of course, just when he had settled into a good routine of not thinking about dinner with Hermione, Ron had to barge in and bring her up.
"She's acting weird today."
"How so?" Harry asked. He kept his nose in his book, trying his best to avoid showing just how interested he was in Hermione's behavior.
"Well, first, she wouldn't stop smiling during her meeting with the SAF, which was weird, because Hermione doesn't normally do a lot of smiling during work meetings. But when I asked her about it, she told me that she had a date. Before I could even ask who it was with, she told me that it was none of my business, but that I would really like the guy."
"Oh?" Harry said, fighting the urge to smile.
"Do you know who she's going with?"
"I...do," Harry replied. He had tried with all of his might not to say anything, but it seemed as if he was compelled to talk about it.
"Really? Who is it?" Ron asked as he dropped into the seat across from Harry. Harry immediately looked up at Ron, who was smiling from ear to ear. Did he already know? Was he pulling Harry's leg? If Hermione had elected not to tell Ron, then he certainly couldn't tell Ron, could he? He knew that he shouldn't. What if things didn't work out? If things didn't work out and they never told Ron, then they could act like nothing had happened.
"Did I say that I knew who it was?" Harry asked, feigning stupidity a bit too well for his own liking. "I meant that I...knew that she had a date but I have...no idea...who...it's with."
Ron cocked his head.
"Harry?"
"Yes?" Harry replied, his voice suddenly climbing in pitch in a way that Harry knew gave him away.
Ron smiled. "Harry, do you have a date tonight?"
Ron was torturing him. Of course, Ron was torturing him.
"I wouldn't really call it a date. I would say that I'm having dinner with someone who I am particularly fond of and-"
"Harry."
"Yes?"
"Do you, Harry J. Potter, have a date tonight?" Ron insisted.
Harry opened his mouth to lie again, but he knew that there was no point in it. Clearly, Ron had come here with a mission in mind.
Harry sighed in defeat. "Yes, I have a date tonight."
"Do I know who?"
"I would say that it's none of your business, but that you would really like the girl, but it seems that someone has already beaten me to the punch."
If possible, Ron's smile grew until the edges of his mouth nearly touched his ears. He leapt out of his chair, letting out a triumphant shout as he did.
"I knew it!"
"Will you shut up?" Harry growled as Ron jumped around like an idiot.
"I told you months ago that this was a good idea!"
"You did."
"You both told me that I was crazy."
"We did," Harry admitted.
"Not so crazy now, am I?" Ron shouted.
"What do you want, a fucking medal?" Harry replied. He closed the magazine in front of him and set it aside. He knew that there was no chance that he was getting any work done for the foreseeable future.
In truth, one of Harry's biggest fears about his date with Hermione had been Ron finding out. It wasn't that he thought that Ron wouldn't be supportive. Ron had been very clear for months now that he thought that it was a good idea. No, Harry's greatest fear would be that Ron would suddenly realize that he was still in love with Hermione and take away Harry's opportunity to see what things might be like with Hermione.
He knew that it wasn't necessarily a rational fear, but he also knew that fear itself wasn't always a rational thing.
"How did it happen?" Ron asked as he finally took his seat again.
"What do you mean?"
"It's a fairly simple question, man. Did you ask her? No, she asked you, didn't she?"
"She did," Harry admitted without shame.
"I knew it!" Ron exclaimed.
"I think you're more excited about this than either of us are."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that."
"Seriously?" Harry asked.
Ron nodded. "Harry, honestly, I haven't seen her this happy in years."
"Why? I mean, it's just a date with me."
For all of his excitement, Ron suddenly looked like he had sucked on something very sour as his lips pressed against each other.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I mean, of course I'm okay," Ron said, his voice doing the same thing that Harry's had done moments earlier when it had risen a full octave in a second. "Why wouldn't I be okay?"
"Because your face is getting really red and you sound like a nine-year-old girl."
"That's bullshit."
"Ron, you look like a tomato."
"That's just rude."
"It's the truth!" Harry yelled at him. "What the hell is the matter with you? You went from being completely incapable of shutting your mouth to shut tighter than a Gringotts vault."
"You're exaggerating," Ron replied flippantly. "Anyway, I should be leaving."
"What?"
"I...just...need...to...go back to work, that's all!" Ron almost shouted as he peeled himself out of his chair. He raced to the door only to come face-to-face with Harry, who had Apparated across the room to cut him off.
"You know I could do the same thing, right?"
"You didn't."
"But I could."
"That's nice," Harry said. "What the hell aren't you telling me?"
Ron's mouth hung open like a fish out of water, opening and closing randomly without saying or doing much of anything. Clearly, he was trying to come up with something to tell Harry that wasn't what he wanted to say. Thankfully, Ron's ability to lie was practically non-existent. That had been a problem a few times while they were at Hogwarts but now Harry was thankful that his friend didn't have a poker face.
Finally, he gave up and returned to his seat. Harry took the seat opposite him.
"It's not my thing to tell," Ron finally said.
"What do you mean?"
"You have to talk to Hermione."
"Well, I imagine that we'll talk a bit at dinner tonight."
"No, no, no," Ron said, shaking his head. "You don't understand. You have to talk to Hermione."
Slightly different emphasis aside, Harry had no idea what Ron meant. He stared at Ron blankly until Ron finally rolled his eyes at him.
"Listen, I'm going to ask you a question and I want you to think about the answer. Even if you think you know the answer, don't say anything right away, alright?"
"Sure."
"Okay. You're still living at Hermione's apartment, right?"
"Right. Wait, was I not supposed to answer that question that quickly?"
"These are set-up questions. I'll let you know when we get to the big one," Ron replied. "So, you're still staying there. Why?"
"Because...Hermione asked me to...until I-"
"Get back on your feet after the whole Diagon Alley debacle?" Ron suggested.
"Yeah."
"Do you think you're back on your feet?"
"Well, I'm...I don't know. I mean I still feel guilty about what happened."
Ron laughed. "Harry, you've made feeling guilty into an artform at this point. It doesn't mean that anything is particularly out of the ordinary with you."
"Fair point."
"Harry, why are you still staying with Hermione?"
"Because...I...want to."
"Why?" Ron asked quickly.
"Why do I want to stay with Hermione? She's my best friend."
"Your best friend who you're going on a date with."
"Yes."
"OK. Another question: when you need help with something, who do you turn to?"
"Is this a trick question?" Harry asked.
"No, it's not a trick question," Ron replied. "In fact, don't answer. We both know the answer. It's Hermione."
"Yeah, I don't see why that's a problem. She's my-"
"Best friend, yeah, we know, Harry," Ron replied, a hint of frustration in his voice. "Harry, we have heard that line from the two of you for years now and the only people that have ever believed it are you and Hermione. When you have a bad day, who do you want to talk to? Hermione. When you have a good day, who do you want to talk to? Hermione. When you need help, it's Hermione. When you need advice, it's Hermione. It's Hermione, Harry, and it's been Hermione for ten years now."
"I'm tired of watching the two of you dance circles around each other. You're both so afraid of just admitting that you love each other because you're afraid that things will change. Guess what? They will change! Probably quite a bit. But, dammit, the two of you are my two favorite people in the whole world and I'm sick of watching Hermione date people that don't deserve her. I'm tired of watching you avoid her, because you're worried that she'll reject her."
"You love her, Harry. I know you better than anyone except for her. I know that when you wake up in the morning, you're thinking about her. I know that you go to sleep at night thinking about her. I know that when you started sleeping together, you thought that it was just a physical release because you're both completely morons."
"Wait a minute, you know about that?" Harry shouted.
"Mate, you are incredibly talented and she's brilliant. All that being said, subtly is not really what either of you do well. You two were always aware of each other, but for the last few weeks, the two of you watch each other like hawks when you think that no one's looking. The only issue is that you're Harry Potter and Hermione Granger which means that everyone is looking all the time."
Yet another example of Harry's celebrity failing him. Harry thought that they had done a good job at keeping things under wraps. Apparently, that was not the case.
"Harry, do you love her?"
Harry knew that this was the question that he was supposed to think about before he answered. Ron had told him to consider his answer, to think about what his answer would mean before he said anything.
He didn't. Instead, he immediately said the first thing that popped into his mind.
"So much."
Ron leaned back in his chair and smiled. He had a look of relief on his face, almost as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. In a sense, it had.
"Well, it's about damn time, mate."
"I love her," Harry said, making sure that he could actually say the words aloud. "I love Hermione."
"Congratulations. You are officially the last person on Earth to figure that out."
"The last person?"
Ron shook his head. "You need to-"
"Talk to Hermione."
For a little while, the two of them just sat there as Harry basked in the feeling of the realization that he was well and truly in love with Hermione Jean Granger. It was such a strange feeling to even have that thought. He'd also said that he loved Hermione, but just a slight change in the order of those words meant something entirely different.
"You alright over there?" Ron asked with a smirk on his face.
"I'm...processing."
"I'm sure you are," Ron replied. "Listen, I do have to get back to The Ministry. A word of advice: let things happen as they're going to. She's going to tell you to take things slow and if that's what you both want, then that's fine. In my opinion, you two have been in love since you were fifteen, so maybe you've taken it slow enough."
"Duly noted."
Ron stood and walked towards the door. Just before he got there, Harry called out to him.
"Ron?"
Ron turned back to him. "Yes?"
"Thank you."
Ron smiled. "You're my brother, Harry. You deserve to be happy and so does she. Just be yourself and you'll be fine."
The rest of Harry's day was spent ignoring the clock in the corner of his room and trying (and failing) to pay attention to the information that he was reading. By six-thirty, Harry was dressed and ready to go, a full half hour before their intended meeting time. Rather than Apparate and get there that early, Harry paced around his office, waiting for time to pass.
Finally, what seemed like hours later, the clock read five minutes to eight and Harry Disapparated from his office and landed in an alley just a few blocks away from the pub they were meeting at.
"Fancy meeting you here."
Harry jumped. When he finally landed, he turned around to see Hermione standing behind him. On a normal day, even if Hermione was only working with Harry, Hermione still dressed relatively formally. Additionally, she almost always dressed like a witch. Robes, cloaks, things of that nature were still the standard in the magical world, even if that was starting to change.
It had been years since Harry had seen Hermione really truly dress like a Muggle. Now, she wore blue jeans and a red striped shirt with a stylish leather jacket over top. If Harry had walked by her on the street, he never would have known that she was the second highest ranking person in the entire magical world.
He would have noticed her though.
"Is it good form to leer at your date?" Hermione asked, a playful smile on her face.
"Probably not," Harry admitted. "I just haven't seen you look like this since….well, I honestly don't remember the last time I saw you dressed like this."
"You probably haven't," Hermione replied. "This is from the wardrobe that I keep for when I have to meet with my Muggle family. I felt that it was appropriate for tonight."
"Definitely!" Harry replied.
"Good," Hermione said warmly. "Well, shall we?"
Harry and Hermione exited the alleyway and walked three blocks to The Wall, a small pub that favored fish and chips and Manchester United. As expected, the pub wasn't particularly busy on a Tuesday night which meant that Harry and Hermione got a table almost immediately. They were seated at a small circular table in the quiet back corner of the restaurant, an ideal place for a quiet conversation. They ordered a drink (tea for Hermione, a beer for Harry) and then, the waitress walked away, leaving Harry and Hermione alone once more.
For a moment, both of them were silent and Harry's worst fears were almost realized. For the second time in as many days, silence with Hermioen was strange. Then, just when it seemed like the date was going to turn in a terrible direction, both of them spoke up.
"So, how was your day?"
"Did you enjoy your first day?"
Harry and Hermione paused for a moment before both of them burst into laughter. As she laughed, Harry watched her. How had it taken him so long to realize how much he loved her? He supposed that that love was no different than how he'd always felt about her. He'd just been forced to accept that love was a little different than he'd thought.
Harry and Hermione sat and talked for the better part of an hour before their food arrived. Even as they ate, they filled each other in on how their day had gone with one notable exception from Harry, who had yet to tell her about Ron's visit this afternoon. Despite the fact that they saw each other practically every day, Harry never felt like he ran out of things to talk about with Hermione. In fact, he never really felt like their conversations ended. They just stopped temporarily, only to be resumed at a later point.
Finally, as Harry finished his second pint, he worked up the nerve to broach the most important subject they would likely discuss that night.
"So, Ron stopped by during work today."
Hermione, a much better liar than either Harry or Ron, didn't betray a thing.
"Did he now?"
"He did," Harry said. "He said that he talked to you."
"Yes, he did."
"He said that you smiled through your entire meeting with the SAF."
"It was a good meeting," Hermione said, a slight twinkle in her eye.
"He also said that you told him that you had a date."
"So he went to you."
Harry nodded. "I can't be certain that he knew that I was the date, but he knew that I would know."
"How did he react?"
"He jumped around my office for twenty seconds, whooping like a big idiot."
"Of course he did," Hermione said, shaking her head.
"He also said that I needed to talk to you."
Hermione's smile disappeared. "Did he think that we were going to go through an entire date and not talk to each other?"
"No, sorry, he said that I needed to talk to you."
While Harry had been confused about what Ron had meant when he'd done that, apparently the differing emphasis was all Hermione needed to understand what Ron meant.
"Oh," she said, her face dropping.
"What is it?"
"It's...nothing," Hermione said. She lifted her face back up to him. She was smiling again, but it looked like it took effort. Clearly, there was something that she was not telling him.
"That's not what Ron thought," Harry replied, "and judging your reaction, that's not what you think either."
"It's nothing," Hermione repeated more firmly. "I just…"
"Just what?"
Hermione pressed her lips together, almost as if she was physically keeping a secret in, preventing it from escaping by manually keeping her mouth closed.
"Hermione?"
Her eyes snapped up to his and for a moment, Harry saw that Hermione was afraid. The last thing that Harry wanted was for her to be afraid of telling him anything. There was something that she was hiding from him, something important. Rather than badger her into telling him, Harry knew that the best way to get her to open up would be to take the first step.
"Yes?" Hermione asked.
"You know that I love you, right?"
Hermione smiled, although her lips remained shut tight. Then, she nodded, her eyes glistening.
"I love you," Harry declared softly, quiet enough so that Hermione was the only person who could hear him.
"I know," Hermione replied. "I know that I should trust you. You trusted me with what happened to Viktor. I should tell you this."
"Only if you want to."
Hermione laughed. "I've only wanted to tell you for years. I'm just...scared. I've thought about this day hundreds, probably thousands of times. I just...I want it to be perfect."
"You're here," Harry said. "How could it be anything other than perfect?"
Hermione giggled, a tear slipping down her cheek.
"You're too sweet," Hermione replied, although Harry could tell that she appreciated the comment. "Fine. I can do it. So, you know that Ron and I broke up while you were off training the first time?"
"I do," Harry said. He was confused. This big thing that she wanted to tell him was about Ron?
"You left in June. We broke up in August," Hermione stated. "When you left, I just...felt like something was missing. At first, I thought that I was just upset that you were gone. Since we were eleven, I've always known where you were. Now, you were off training to a place that I'd never been. You weren't responding to letters. You weren't visiting home. It was like you had disappeared."
"But as the weeks passed, this...malaise just stuck around. It wasn't like I was at home, sobbing into a pint of ice cream. The world just...didn't seem as bright. Eventually, Ron called me out. I was ignoring him. I was ignoring the Weasleys and pretty much everyone else. I told him that I was fine."
"He accepted that answer the first time. A week later, he asked me again and I answered the same way. He pushed back a bit, but he ultimately believed me. At this point, I knew that I wasn't fine, although I was ignoring it. I was trying to tell myself that I was fine. But I wasn't and Ron knew it. Finally, he didn't ask me if I was alright. He asked if I was acting the way I was because you were gone. At first, I thought that it was Ron's jealousy kicking in. We both know that he's always thought that there was something going on between us, even if we denied it."
"This wasn't that. He was concerned and when he asked me if my behavior was because you were gone, I immediately knew that he was right. But it was more than you just being gone. I realized something. More accurately, I accepted something that I should have been smart enough to realize years ago. I realized that I had loved you for years. I still can't quite nail down exactly when it happened, but I think it was fifth year with Cho. I thought I disliked you being with Cho because she was a bad fit for you."
"You were jealous," Harry blurted out, causing Hermione to laugh.
"I was," Hermione admitted. "I don't think I knew it, but I wanted to be her. When I realized that, I knew that I had to push that feeling away. I was with Ron; you were with Pavarti. There was no future for the two of us. Unfortunately, Ron picked up some observational skills over the years and he finally put the pieces together."
"He's known?" Harry asked. "For how long?"
"Since a week before we broke up," Hermione replied. "I admitted that I loved you. I knew that I would never have anything with you and I told him that. I thought that would make it better, but I was wrong. A week later, Ron left."
"He's known for years," Harry whispered. "He's known that long and he's never said anything?"
"I never asked him to keep my secrets. He's a good friend," Hermione replied.
"He is," Harry said. He'd always known that Ron was a good friend. But today was the day that he truly understood what that meant. He'd have to thank Ron some time soon. He'd somehow managed to keep Hermione's secret and push the two of them together at the same time.
"So, that's why Ron said that we should talk," Hermione said. "I've loved you since I was fifteen. I've known it for years and I never said anything."
"Why?"
"You were with Parvati. Things may have been rough between you, but I was never going to step in. The last thing I ever wanted was anything to start between us because I had intervened in your relationship with Parvati."
"But you knew all this when we slept together," Harry replied.
"I did," Hermione admitted.
"Why didn't you say anything then? I had just gotten done telling you that I was done with Parvati."
"Because I never once considered that you were interested in me," Hermione replied. "Because I had told myself that there was never a chance for us. We'd known each other too long."
"But you asked me out last night!"
"Harry, I love you, but you haven't necessarily been subtle recently," Hermione said with a grin. "I thought that we'd sleep together, I'd get you out of my system, and then I'd figure out how to move on."
"You thought that I would do that to you?"
"I wasn't going to give you a choice," Hermione admitted. "But when we talked and you agreed to a purely sexual relationship, I could see that bothered you. I could tell that there was something else there. But I was afraid that I was reading too much into it, so I let things go for a little bit. It's only been the last few days where I really thought that there might be something there."
"Did you even talk to your parents?" Harry asked.
"I did!" Hermione protested. "I just...I was so afraid of talking to you about it. I think we can both agree that you're not always the most emotional available person. I thought that if I asked you about it and I was wrong, I'd lose you forever. I made a lot of bad decisions because of that thought."
Harry smiled at her. "You'd never lose me. We have a lot to figure out, but you're stuck with me either way."
"Good."
They sat in silence for a couple of moments. Harry was glad that the world seemed to be back to the way it should have been. This silence, unlike the one before, wasn't uncomfortable at all. For all that had been said that night, it was still the quiet moments with Hermione, the ones where neither of them said anything, that let Harry know that he had found someone truly special.
"So, what now?" Hermione eventually asked.
"Well, I suppose the first thing we have to figure out is whether or not we're actually dating."
"Some people would argue we've been dating since we were sixteen," Hermione replied.
"True," Harry said. "I'd like this to be our first date."
"Meaning there would be others?"
"Yes."
Hermione blushed. "I'd like that, too."
"Good," Harry said, unable to wipe the smile from his face. "I suppose, at some point, we'll have to tell people."
"You know that Ron is going to be waiting by our office first thing in the morning," Hermione pointed out.
"Yeah. I suppose that will take care of people finding out," Harry replied. "Now, there's one other thing we should probably address: our living situation."
"How so?"
"Well, I've basically been living with you for the last couple of weeks. That was fine when we were just friends and I was staying in your guest room."
"But we're not just friends anymore," Hermione said, clearly relishing the fact that she was saying that out loud. For as excited about all of this as Harry was, it was entirely possible that Hermione was even more excited.
"That changes things."
"Does it?" Hermione asked. "We've already been sleeping together. We're basically living together."
"We've lived together for two weeks. I don't know if that really constitutes living together."
"Alright, well, what do you want to do?" Hermione asked. "It does seem silly to kick you back to Potter Manor now that we've started dating."
"That was kind of my thought as well," Harry admitted. "I'd like to come stay with you. Worst case scenario, if either of us needs a little space, I can always go back to Potter Manor. Hell, I'll still be working out of there most of the time anyway."
"I'm alright with that," Hermione said. "We just have to agree on one thing."
"What's that?"
"If there's anything that's going wrong with this relationship, anything at all, we talk about it and if it's not going to fix itself, then we walk away. I love you, but I would rather have you as a friend than lose you forever."
"I already told you that I'm not going anywhere."
"I know, but I just want to be clear on that," Hermione replied. "Just like when we started our...arrangement, above everything else, we remain friends."
"Always," Harry agreed.
"Good," Hermioen replied as she suddenly started laughing. "Oh, people are going to have a field day with this."
"They are," Harry said. "Do you think that one of us will have to change jobs?"
"I doubt it. While there is a Senior and a Junior Undersecretary, you don't really report to me. It's more for the line of emergency succession than anything else. You work on your things, I work on mine. I'm certain some people will have a problem with it, but those people can go jump off the Astronomy Tower."
"You know, I was going to say that they could go fight Aragog with a stick, but yours is good, too."
Harry paid the bill for the evening and then the two of them walked around London for more than an hour. They didn't talk much. Instead, they simply enjoyed walking hand-in-hand around the city. It was late and the middle of the week which meant that the city was quieter than most nights. While it wasn't New Hogsmeade, it was more or less peaceful.
Afterwards, they both returned to Hermione's apartment. Harry quickly Apparated back to Potter Manor to pick up a larger collection of clothes while Hermione made some space for him in her surprisingly full closet. Harry knew that they were taking a huge step here, one that most people probably would recommend that they delay.
But Hermione (and Ron, much to Harry's chagrin) was right. They'd been "taking things slow" for years now. They were already living together and they'd also slept together on a number of occasions. At this point, the only thing that really changed was the definition of their relationship. They were no longer individuals benefiting from a physical relationship with each other.
They were, as they'd always been, partners. That night, as Harry slowly drifted off to sleep, he could feel Hermione's body clinging to his, her hair resting on his shoulder. For all of the terrible things going on in the world, Harry was glad to know that at least one thing could go right. There was at least one thing in the world, one person, who would always make him happy.
The last thought that Harry had before he finally fell asleep was a promise to himself. He'd spent so much time being alone, so much time pushing others away. He vowed never to do that again. Harry Potter had people that he loved and that loved him and he promised that he would hold onto them as tight as he could and never let them go.