The Way We Were

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter.

 

Filler Chapter Ahead! :P

Chapter 03: Equality

Law Department

Muggle and Magical Rights Section

Hermione J. Granger-Weasley’s Office

Hermione put down the parchment with a heavy sigh.  She knew it was useless to try staying focus on whatever.  She hadn’t planned to break down like that.  In all honestly she hadn’t planned to even see Harry.  During all those years, she had managed to veil her failures. 

A soft knock on the door caused her thoughts to vanish.  Hermione looked up as the door opened a little and a face appeared.

It was Harry. “Hallo,” he spoke with a tentative smile, “may I come in?”

Hermione felt herself tensing up, wishing to say no - that she was too busy, but she couldn’t.

 “Of course.”  She didn’t smile. “Come in.” 

Harry gave her curt nod and stepped in the room, closing the door behind him.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

There was an awkward silence.  Harry shifted on his feet, his hands shoving inside his trousers’ pockets.  

“Well - . . .”

“Well - . . .”

Unable to control herself, Hermione snorted.  That was just ridiculous.  How old were they?  Twelve? 

“Harry,” Hermione said sternly.  “Are you going to say something or . . .?”

“Oh, sorry,” he apologized.  “I just would like to invite you to have lunch with me.”  He paused, and then gave her one those lopsided grins of his.  “Please?”

Hermione looked at him and then back at the papers on her desk.  She knew she had work to do, but she was also very aware that her mind wouldn’t be on work today.  Not to mention, she was feeling almost a compulsion to talk to Harry, to enjoy his company.  It had been so long since the last time with only two of them there that she couldn’t exactly remember when it had been.  He was once her best friend.  Who knew if after so many years, life wasn’t giving their friendship another chance? 

 “Okay, let’s lunch together, Mr. Potter,” replied Hermione. 

Harry grinned, “Great!”  And Hermione gave him her first real smile in weeks.

*~*~*

A Restaurant, Muggle London

“What happened to us, Hermione?” Harry finally asked. 

Hermione sighed, placing her knife and fork down. “Life, I guess.”  She shrugged.  “Many things, little things. We grew up, got married, had children . . .”  She looked wistful.  “We changed.” 

“When I saw you yesterday, Hermione,” he spoke in a low but clear voice, “it was like a veil was being opened.  I don’t know how to explain.  I - It’s just that I saw you there, sitting alone - . . .”  Looking so sad.  “I realized how much I have been neglecting our friendship.”  He took a deep breath.  “I’m sorry, Hermione.” 

Hermione nodded briefly, her lips pursing in a thin line.  She knew exactly what - or rather, who - had caused a gap in their friendship, but she also was painfully conscious that she also had some fault as well.

 “It wasn’t only your fault, Harry,” she said after some seconds of discomfited silence.  “I was - . . .”  Just being too angry at myself for my failures in life.  “I was suddenly too busy, with Ron, the kids, my work . . . and then, time just passed.”  And also your dear wife didn’t quite agree that we continued to be close friends, Hermione thought bitterly, but decided to not comment.  Ginny wasn’t the only one to blame, and Hermione knew it. 

“Harry,” she continued, “I don’t really think is useful to start arguing about what happened or which one is the fault about it.  We already know it.”  Harry stared at her a little doubtful.  “We already know, even if we are too blind to see it.”

Harry gave a little nod and leaned his hand over the table, taking her hand in his.  “I just - I just want to say that I’ll be always by your side, Hermione. I know these last years I . . .  Anything you ne - . . .” 

Hermione laughed quietly, shaking her head, but didn’t pull her hand away.  “I simply can’t start to tell you about my problems, Harry.  I can’t start to tell you about my deepest fears and failures . . .”  Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione continued.  “I know I said we should stop with any guilt game, but this doesn’t mean that all these years are suddenly forgotten, Harry.”  She pulled out her hand, placing it on her lap.  “I spent too many years pretending to be happy.” 

Harry looked surprised at her words, his eyes darkening in sadness at their meaning.  Hermione wanted to give him a reassuring smile, but she simply couldn’t.  She felt tired - and old.

Just then, suddenly, in an unexpected movement, Harry stood from his seat, walked over to Hermione, and took her hands.  Somewhat unsurely, Hermione also stood up.  And without unnecessary words, Harry wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him.  It was like an act of desperation. 

At first, Hermione felt her body tense, but then started to relax against his body, her arms around his neck.  She closed her eyes and sighed.  She felt strangely safe.  

Neither of them said a word.  It wasn’t necessary.  

*~*~*

Auror Department

Intelligence and Logistic Section

Ronald B. Weasley’s office.

Ron Weasley looked at the photograph frame on his desk.  It was an old photograph of himself and Hermione.  It had been taken in the day they had found out she was expecting a child—their first child.  They looked so young, so...happy. 

“What happened to us, Hermione?” he asked to the smiling Hermione in the picture.

Ron heaved a sigh, closing his eyes painfully.  This wasn’t how he had foreseen his future, his life.  He remembered of those times, in his youth, when he naively thought that after he and Hermione got finally together everything would be fine.  That life wouldn’t be perfect but close enough to it.  

However, such happiness and perfection didn’t happen.  Of course, there was a time when they were happy.  Or at least he liked to think there had been.  In the beginning, soon after the Final Battle, they practically knew everything about each other (in a more romantic sense of the phrase), but also, especially, they were helping each other to heal.  

Now, looking back, Ron couldn’t help but wonder if they had had, in some way, mixed feelings.  But it didn’t matter.  He didn’t know exactly when everything started to turn down.  A cynical part of him could say it was immediately after the honeymoon, but he knew it wasn’t true.

The first years were good.  Yes, they did have their differences and their issues, but both of them were willing to try.  And they tried.

And tried.

Ron slouched down in his chair and spun it in slow circles, letting a small chuckle escape from his throat.  The truth was, neither one of them, really wanted to change.  Not even after the children were born.  Ron knew that for the most part it had been his fault.  Even after so much time, he still couldn’t totally understand Hermione, comprehend her.  

Was everything a mistake?

He stopped the chair and turned his gaze to another photograph.  It was one of the Trio.  Hermione, Harry, and himself during their fifth year.  It had been a difficult year that one, but they were smiling nonetheless.

But now, even his friendship with Harry seemed different.  Distant.

He took a deep sigh and stood up from his chair, and walked towards the fake window.

Soon after the war, the two of them (plus Hermione, of course) had made all sorts of plans.  They returned to Hogwarts to finish their studies, and after that he and Harry were accepted at the Auror Program (not that anyone would have denied them).  Hermione also started in a program in the Law Department.

They were happy.  It was the big happy end: he and Hermione, Harry and Ginny.

Yes, professionally speaking everything was fine.  Hermione had started to make big and important changes in the Wizarding Law, and he and Harry had totally reorganized the Auror Department.  They had separated the Auror Department in two separate, but equally important groups: intelligence (headed by him, Ronald Weasley) and security (headed by Harry).  

Yes, they had turned out to be successful professionals.  However, not everything was as perfect as they had predicted.

“I miss Quidditch,” he mused, staring at the fake blue sky.

Their friendship wasn’t the same.  And for all that Ron had tried to deny it, he knew - maybe not the only reason - but the prime reason for the fall out. 

Ginny.

Ron loved his baby sister dearly, but he knew she would never see her husband, Harry, as just Harry - Ron and Hermione’s best mate - but always only as a hero.  And she had never - and would never - quite understand their friendship.

She didn’t understand that the three of them needed to be alone a few times, talking, remembering.  She simply couldn’t accept it.  She wanted to be with them, to know what they did, what tell talked about.

Ron lowered his gaze and saw a piece of paper; gingerly, he bent down and took and tossed it towards the rubbish bin, missing the target.

He laughed without humor. “No wonder I never was a Chaser.”

Ginny was a Chaser.

She was a spoiled little girl.  But she got her wish.  With time, Harry started to give up onto her pressure and . . .

 “Damn!” Ron cried aloud, slamming his fists against the wall.  “Why did you have to be so weak, Harry?  Why always play the hero to the beautiful princess . . . ?”  He closed his eyes painfully, sighing deeply.  “How could you let my sister do that to our friendship, Harry?  Or maybe you are so blind that you didn’t even notice what happened.”  He opened his eyes again and looked back at the Trio’s photograph.  

“I need you, Harry.  My marriage is falling to pieces, and . . . I need you, my friend.  I don’t know what to do anymore.”

He continued to look at the picture in a contemplative silence as if he was waiting for some sort of answer, but it never came.

Ronald Weasley didn’t have lunch that day. 

 

TBC