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Chapter Text

The wind slammed against my face but I didn't stop. I couldn't comprehend how far I'd run or where I was.

Suddenly, I found myself banging a door. At least I'd hoped it was a door. My vision was blurred from the onslaught of tears and my head was spinning. The tears stained my cheeks red as dizziness began to cloud my vision like a perfect veil of fog. I stabbed him.

I stabbed him.

The thought ran through my brain in a loop. I have to get out of here, out of this place. I knew I was too weak to cause any fatal damage. Which means only one thing....Once ron recovers he will find me. And if I remain in this town, he will never let me go again.
I stand there banging on a strangers door, trying to understand just how everything had gone downhill so quickly. The longer I stood here the more the panic inside my chest swelled. Was he already up? Was he looking for me? Could he see me now? My head turned quickly trying to make sense of my surroundings, trying to see if he was coming towards me. It was no use. My tears turned everything into distant shapes and colors. I tried to slow my breathing and calm the racing of my mind. Tried to find understanding of just what had happened only minutes ago.

When the door in front of me finally opened, I collapsed. Dazed by the memories and panic. How did this happen? When did my life become such a horror story?

~~~
Earlier in the day:

The apple pie was nauseatingly sweet. I could tell just by the smell. I smile as the warm yellow of the sun pierces through the windowsill above my kitchen sink. It was a beautiful day in my home of Diagon Alley.

Home. The word brought a thousand memories to mind, but none were pleasant.

I suddenly remembered why I was baking this pie. Ron was always calmer if he had dessert.

"It's okay 'mione" I reassured myself "he won't be home for another two hours, just...enjoy the peace."

Ron was my husband. He was handsome, muscular, and........dangerous. He had been quite a different man when I first met him. Or at least, I had seen him that way. Back then he always seemed to be smiling or laughing. He was fun and caring. And then he obtained the job offer he'd always wanted. The one I now wish he'd never have taken. In becoming Diagon Alley's head investigator of the police department, Ron became dull, angry, and scary. The force changed the man I married. Or maybe, It just finally allowed me to see who my husband really was.

It was just two weeks after we purchased our new home. Ron had been working for a full week. I brought out the best wine we had to celebrate.

Once it was accessible, he seemed... attached to it. He was rather angry when I made him stop drinking so we could sleep.

He yelled for the first time that night. He became loud and demanding. My knees trembled at the tone of his voice. I didn't recognize the way this man spoke to me. The complete lack of emotion tied into his voice. In my terror, I am not afraid to admit that I was not thinking logically. Not yet making the connections as to why his behavior had changed. The next day, however, I found myself wondering just why anyone would be so attached to wine. Why it would so drastically change their mood or persona. It wouldn't. It doesn't..... Unless, the person is an alcoholic.

But this was Ron. My stomach turned over in knots. I would know if my own husband was an alcoholic. Right? I would've noticed the signs when we were dating, would've seen the red flags waving. And Ron hardly ever had a drink. Even when we were out and about. It would be crazy to believe someone who never really drank publicly was an alcoholic. Unless, he didn't ever really need to.

I noticed Ron's water bottle sitting at the edge of the sink. I picked it up and took a hesitant sniff. The bottle reeked of vodka.

In my shock, I didn't notice the figure standing in the doorway talking to me. That's when everything went really wrong. A iron hand clasped onto my shoulder. Roughly turning me to face him. Forcing me to look straight into his eyes. Eyes which were blood shot. As though he had tried to drink himself straight out of a hangover.

That was the fist time he beat me.

Every time after that became worse. I had heard the statistics on domestic violence cases. I had heard how many women stay. How dangerous it can be for them.

I just never thought I would become one of them.

At first, I stayed out of love. This was my husband, and though his fits of rage scared and hurt me, I felt that maybe I could find a way to help him. He would always apologize after. Tell me how sorry he was and how it would "never happen again". I wanted so badly to believe him. To believe that this marriage I had entered into was not already failing. To believe that I was not to blame for missing the earlier signs. To believe that he could love me enough to change. To choose me. To just not....hurt me. But eventually, you are hurt enough to know that them changing is not something that could ever be. But, by the time you arrive at that point you are broken and bruised. A sick twisted voice starts to whisper that you deserve this. That it's your fault. That the only reason the man you loved so much changed so entirely is.....well, you. You start to become afraid. Afraid that if you leave , you'll become another statistic. Afraid that he'll find you and hurt you worse. Afraid that if you somehow manage to escape with your life, the next person will treat you the exact same way. Because of that sick, twisted voice. Constantly whispering, "It's your fault".

And so I stayed. Everyday praying that today would be different. Making apple pies, or chocolate chip cookies in hopes that his good mood would protect me for another night. I had no idea on that night, that I was about to face one of the most brutal beatings yet.

My body flinched in response to the front door slamming. I tried to mentally prepare myself for what was to come. I stopped, looking at myself in the kitchen windows reflection. Sadly asking myself, "how do you prepare yourself for torture."

I set the table with the finer plates and forced a smile when he wrapped his arms around my waist. Dinner itself, went pleasantly. I dared to hope that the Ron I loved was back. That is until I got up to clear the table. "Ate you finished" I asked warily.

"Yeah" he replied.

A real smile lit up my features as I grabbed his plate and the wine and started for the kitchen. The sound of a inhuman-like chuckle sent shivers down my spine. Rooting my feet in place on the floor.

"Does it look like I was done with that?!" He all but growled, as I sprinted to put the wine back on the table.

"No, of course not."

I felt his hand grab Mine and his fingernails dig into my wrist. "What does that mean Hermione? Do you think I some kind of alcoholic?"

I frantically tried to assure him I thought nothing of the sort and I felt his grisp tighten on my wrist. His fingernails digging harshly into my pale skin. Continuing their torment, until finally red blood appeared in small circles.

It was too late. He was screaming at me. Of that, I was certain. But the panic had clawed its way up my throat. I could not hear anything but the sound of my continuously increasing breaths. The world was silent. His mouth moving, but no sound reaching my bracing ears. I saw his arm move before I felt the sheer force of becoming weightless. I crashed to wall behind me with brutal impact. Sharp pains stun my back as I tumbled to the ground. My hands shook as I stayed there, frozen on the ground. Blood was visible in small cuts all over my arms now. I quickly realized why. He had thrown me into the mirror. The sharp pains I felt were shards that had broken forcefully upon my skin. More shards lay in pieces at my feet.

"After all I've done for you, you think of me as nothing more than a drunk man?"
I wanted to move, to run, to do anything! But I couldn't. My body was frozen laying in a heap on the floor, surrounded by mirror shards. Rough hands grasped my waist, turning my on my back. My back which screamed in pain and agony. The same rough hands were around my neck not even a moment later. Slowly, squeezing the life out of me. "It's okay" I assured myself "he's choked you before. Never any longer than a minute". My hands grasped at his own of their own accord. Weakly trying to removed the object obstructing my air. But I focused on trying to conserve the little air I already had. It would not do to waste it now.

I counted to sixty in my head. That's when the realization hit me. Ron was far too drunk and far too angry this time. He wasn't going to stop. My body took over. The freeze that had previously been activated was overpowered by the raw sense of fight being currently unleashed. I saw a shard of mirror sticking out of my left forearm. I released my hands from his wrist and grabbed it. Unthinkingly, I shoved it into his right rib. He cried in pain before dropping me. I gasped for air as i lay in the glass-like fragments. He lay still on the floor. One hand clutching his side, but his eyes closed and Jaw slack.

When I finally had enough breath to regain my head, I shot up. I sprinted to our master bedroom and grabbed a black suitcase I grabbed five changes of clothes, emergency money, and any precious items (that hadn't been broken in one of his rages) and flew out the door.

I could only pray I had enough time to get away.

~~~

I awoke to find myself in a bed at the Brown house. Lavender, a quirky girl about 3 years younger than me, told me how she had opened the door to find me faint. She said it was only ten minutes after she had brought me inside, that a man came out of the corner house cursing and clutching his side.

She said after seeing my scars and the frantic pounding it wasn't hard to put the pieces together. I'd expected myself to be embarrassed, but it felt surprisingly good to be able to talk to and trust Lavendar. I stayed there about two weeks, then I ran hopped on the train. I exited twice to board different lines. After the second switch, I figured I was safe to jut sit until It hit the last stop.

My name is Hermione Granger. I am 28 years old. I don't know where I am.

The one thing I do know is that I was abused.

Chapter Text

The world around me was dimly lit. Every object, movement, and thought was hazy. The rational side of my brain recognized the fictional elements that only my imagination could conjure. Unfortunately, the rest of my brain was screaming "shut up" and "run faster". A small house came into view. Was that the Browns home? I could only hope. Suddenly my whole world jerked, as if coming to an abrupt stop. I found pain searing up my body as my hands connected with the concrete. I slowly pushed myself up, fighting gravity which felt much stronger than normal. It all happened so fast. His hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me towards him. His side was oozing with blood and his eyes burned with rage. In a situation where all the possible outcomes lead to you being dead there's only one thing to do. I screamed.

And instantly regretted it.

A old man was looking at me with pity and confusion. I felt my cheeks redden as I noticed his hand on my shoulder, gently shaking me. "I apologize m'am but we've hit the last stop." He said removing his hand and handing over my old black suitcase.

"No, you are fine. Thank you for waking me." I quickly stuttered.

"No problem miss, have a grand time in Hogsmeade."

Hogsmeade, so that's what this towns called. I gave him a small smile and simple as I exited the train.

My name is Hermione Granger. I am 28 years old. I made it out of Diagon alley. Ron can't hurt me. I can start a new life.

Grrrrr. Of course my stomach would beg for food in the middle of my attempt at composure. Well, I suppose starting a new life can wait until after I've eaten. I looked around. I was surrounded by Autumn. Colorful leaves, Chilly breezes, beautiful wood trees; everything was beautiful. Up the road there were many peculiar houses. All uniquely shaped, bright colored, yet having similar sharp pointed roofs. I was immediately overcome with a sense of comfort.

I started up the sloping grassy hill, praying a decent restaurant was on the other side. When I reached the top I froze. Though Hogsmeade had given me the impression of a small country town, it was much more. Right below me was a clutter of little shops. I was able to read the names of the first few shops Madame's Puddifoots, Glad Rags, and The Three Broomsticks. What peculiar names I thought with a smile. Just beyond the little town was a glimmering river. It was crystal blue and I felt my breathe hitch. I'm not sure I'd ever seen anything so beautiful. It looked like something out of a fairytale. I truly smiled before hearing my stomach grumble again. Sighing, I started into town.

I kept my eye on The Three Broomsticks sign. I'm not sure why I was drawn to this place. I didn't even know if they had food there. Something just felt...right. Like a string was being winded tighter with every step that I took. Suddenly, I was in front of the door. A waft of delicious food reached my nose. Smelling the flavors, I excitedly entered the establishment.

I'm not sure what I was expecting when I entered The Three Broomsticks. Perhaps a quiet diner where everyone spoke to within their own groups privately. Maybe a place so popular that all the heads would stop and turn, staring at the girl who had just barged into their city. But Neither of those accurately described what The Three Broomsticks was. Not a single head turned when I entered. Though I didn't mind anyone not noticing me. The pub was filled with people excitedly chirping hello to one another, chatting about common interests. It seemed there was not a single person here who didn't know everyone in town. Well, except for me that is. I scanned over the crowd before deciding to head towards the bar. I sat down towards the end away from most, well actually, away from all people. The longer I went unnoticed the better.

"Hey what can I get for you." I sat drumming my finger tips mindlessly on the table for a few seconds before realizing the voice was directed at me. "uh... what?" Confused, I looked up. I met eyes with a man who looked to be around my age. He had messy hair of ebony and beautiful emerald eyes. He was about a few inches taller than me and had a lean sort of strength about him. He was wearing a red apron and holding a pen and pad of paper. He smiled, "is there anything you would like to eat or drink?"

"Oh just a glass of water will do, thank you." I replied. Earning a nod and smile from the man before he walked away. He returned with my water in surprising time. "Thank you." I smiled.

"Of course" he returned the smile as we melted into silence.

"So, uh, you're, um, y-your new around here right." He stuttered.

So much for not being noticed. "Yes." I told him.

"What made you want to come here? Hogsmeade is pretty off the radar."

"I know. That's the reason I came"

"oh."

"How did you know I wasn't from here?" I asked curiously.

"Easy" the man smirked "I would've recognized you long before now with a smile like that."

I felt a light blush graze my cheeks but forced myself to keep a blank face. "So you got a place to stay." I hesitated wondering if there could possibly be more behind this mans question. But as I looked at him, I just felt... calm. So I told the truth. "Not that I've found quite yet."

"Well, there is a job offer available here. As for an inn, Hog's Head Inn is just a bit up the road. It's not the fanciest of establishments, but it's a bed. I could show you where it's located? "

"That's alright I don't want to trouble you" I smiled.

"Oh, it wouldn't be any trouble. In fact, if you take me up on that job opening, you'd really be helping me." I debated it for a couple seconds.

"Okay."

The man walked off. I sat in confusion. Where could he possibly be going? didn't he need to interview me? Or, at least ask my name? 

Suddenly, I saw his figure walking back toward my seat with an older women. "Mrs. McGonagall meet....." He trailed off awkwardly. I knew I needed to give a name. Yet, I also knew I couldn't give mine. On the off chance that Ron did know anyone here, I needed to protect myself. "Melony." I said quickly. 

The name had been a favorite of mine in childhood. I suppose that it made sense that it came to mind in my moment of need. "Melony Fitzger."

Mrs. McGonagall welcomed me with a smile. "well Miss Melony, Harry here just informed me you might potentially be interested in filling our vacancy for another waitstaff. If you are indeed interested in this position, we would love it if you came to work with us Melony." 

"I would really appreciate the opportunity. Thank you Mrs. McGonagall." I responded professionally. 

 "Please, call me Minerva" she spoke warmly before turning to the man. "Harry, you will explain the schedule to Melony. Then you will act as her mentor for the first couple of days."

 "Absolutely" harry replied cheerfully. Minerva gave us one last smile before gliding back to the kitchen.

 Harry took a seat next to me, as he began to explain the schedule. He answered any questions I had patiently. By the time we were done I felt content with my knowledge on the shop. "Thank you, harry." I said while gathering up my things. 

"Anytime, Melony." 

We sat there give each other soft smiles. I couldn't lie. Harry was an attractive man. I hadn't forgotten his initial comment earlier about my smile. I knew he had been flirting. If this had been a few years ago, I knew I would be ecstatic about it. But now, I knew better. Someone having a pretty face didn't mean they had a good soul. And I refused to let myself fall in love again. Love had trapped and abused me. Love had broken my spirit. If that was love, I did not want it. 

"I'll see you Monday Melony. 9 a.m. sharp." He said with a gentle voice

"See you then...."I paused. 

"What?" He asked, sensing my hesitation. I laughed, "I just realized you know my name, but I only know half of yours." 

"How rude of me." He chuckled, extending a strong head in my direction. "Harry potter." 

"It was nice to meet you, Mr. Potter." I said upon shaking his hand.

"The pleasure was all mine Ms. Fitzger."

His head, though clearly strong grasped mine as though it were something delicate. The touch being soft. How long had it been since someone had touched me like this? Softly. 

I gave a small smile before turning towards the door. I could feel him watching me as I walked away. Don't look back , my conscience screamed. I opened the door and breathed the fresh air. Praying it would calm my racing heart. My cheeks were flushed and guilt wracked my mind. I could not, under absolutely any circumstances, fall for Harry Potter. 

I wouldn't.

Chapter Text

I dunked my hands beneath the cool surface of the soapy water. McGonagall had started my jobs in the restaurant simple. My everyday tasks were to wash the dishes, arrange the silverware in their proper containers, and help Harry man the bar.

Harry.

He had surprised me. My first day on the job he had been so patient and kind while walking through every step of my jobs with me. He had shown me how to correctly use the spouts on the kegs of butter beer flavors. He was naturally funny and never went a day without saying some thing to make McGonagall and I laugh.

The one thing I noticed about Harry was that while everyone in this town seemed to know each other, he was treated as if he were royalty. When he walked in everyone stood to talk to him. Every girl batted her eyelashes and giggled. Though it appeared he hardly noticed. Everyone tipped him, even when he wasn't their server. Even the young children who came into our shop ran up to him with big hugs and their newest jokes.

Personally, that was my favorite. Watching how he would bend down to the children's height to tease and laugh with them. Watching Harry with all those kids made my stomach feel......weird. It was like I was nauseous, my stomach constantly flipping. But instead of getting lightheaded I could not stop a smile that forced its way onto my face.

He was the closest thing to a perfect man I had ever meet. But I didn't like him. I couldn't. Not after everything that had just happened with Ron.

Harry was just a really close friend.

I finished the last dish and dried my hands on the black apron that was tied around my waist. I pushed the large wooden door open and walked out into the empty restaurant. I looked around and realized I was the only person left at the restaurant. Sighing I began to search for the keys to lock up. I looked on the nail by the door, in the staff drawer, even in Mcgonagall's office. They were no where in sight.

Beginning to panic I made my way towards the front door. With each step my heart pulsed a little quicker. I had never liked being alone at night but somehow the gas lamps flickering made it worse. It felt like the second I opened the door something was going to jump out and attack me. Placing my narrow hands on the cool iron I took a deep breathe. You got away 'mione, I thought quietly, he can't hurt you anymore.

I pulled on the handle and stepped into the slightly chilly air. I looked left toward the mountains where the once beautiful castle had resigned. Now in the evening the castle only looked dark and sent shivers up my spine. I could make out two figures to my right. I walked closer carefully, only to realize I wasn't the last employee at the shop. Harry stood smiling talking to and old man in white robes. I watched curiously as he smiled at the man while chuckling. Slightly shaking his head back and forth. He lifted his head to face me. Our eyes locked. He smiled at the old man once more muttering words I couldn't understand. Then the old man turned towards me.

There was something about his face that seemed so familiar. He had a long white beard that flowed almost to his stomach. He had light brown eyes that were warm with kindness, and they were directed right towards me. Then he was turning and walking away; leaving me with a sense of curiosity.

The dream-like state was over and I re-focused my attention on Harry who was currently locking the door. He quickly stood and smiled my way.

"Sorry I didn't mean to be out so long. Just got caught in the moment."

I blushed, a seemingly regular occurrence lately, "oh no, I didn't mind."

Harry stood looking at me curiously. "are you hungry?"

I stopped frozen in shock.

"......what?"

"Are you hungry? I was thinking of making something inside before I left. I can fix you a plate too if you want."

"Oh, of course...I mean...I don't wanna trouble you..but if I help.. I mean..." I huffed at my own awkwardness. He smiled while raising an eyebrow.

"You mean..."

"Yes, I mean yes."

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I laughed gently at something Harry said. It wasn't the words he said exactly but the way he would animatedly move his arms and hands to match what he was saying that was so endearing.

"So have you made any other friends in town?" The question stopped me. Suddenly I was embarrassed. Because no, I hadn't made other friends in town. I hadn't even attempted too.

"No." At this he looked shocked. I quickly attempted to change our conversation. "Not because of the people here, they're all lovely....I'm just... I'm not good with people."

"Oh come it's not that hard." He smiled at me.

"Easy for you to say." I smiled back "everyone loves you."

"Not everyone."

I looked at him curiously, "What happened?"

"I wasn't truly raised in Hogwarts. I moved here when I was twelve years old after being accepted into Hogwarts school of..." He grunted before continuing his story. " anyway before that My parents were involved In some accident and neither made it. That left me to be raised by my aunt Petunia, her grumpy husband Vernon, and their son Dudley. They were not my biggest fans. They made me sleep in the cupboard under the stairs. And I was constantly punished for things that were out of my control. I never had a birthday celebration, never opened a Christmas gift." He looked down sadly. "Most of the time I was glad if I was able to eat a little bit of dinner. Or wake up without bruises."

The last comment physically wounded me. I felt hearing those words like I had been punched in the gut. Because I knew exactly how that felt. I knew what it was like to be beaten until you no longer cared about anything but survival. But more than anything I new someone as kind as Harry didn't deserve to be put through that.

I didn't speak, because I knew there was nothing I could do to make that pain better. Nothing that could make it go away. Instead, I just grabbed his hand across the booth. It was a bold act, especially for myself. Yet, something in the action felt so right. We sat in silence looking into each other's eyes. Something in his eyes clicked and changed. His eyes dulled and in that moment we were connected. I could see every thought racing through his head. He knew. Sure he didn't know how or when or who; but he sensed someone, somewhere had done the same to me. An aching in my heart longed to tell him everything and show him every vulnerability I contained. My logical side has always been my most trusted one, so instead I kept my mouth shut and held onto his hand. Nodding once he squeezed my hand. I knew it was a sign that he understood and that I didn't have to explain.

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It's been a week since our dinner and Harry and I have grown closer each day. Making jokes during shifts, walking together through the light rain towards the hog's head every night, although he would always leave me with the offer to help me find anywhere that wasn't "the Hog's Head" to stay in. McGonagall was always there to offer a knowing smile. Everything was great, except-

I heard a high pitched laugh from the bar and rolled my eyes. That obnoxious sound signaled the arrival of cho. A brainy brunette who had a high paying job, a pretty face, and a very obvious crush on my co-worker. In other words she was pretty much perfect and I had begun to despise her for it. For the past three days she was in here on her lunch hour. Desperate for even a moment of Harry's attention. While it never worked before today he seemed to be leaning a little bit closer to her, talking animatedly and smiling. For some reason seeing him act like this with anyone else made me uncomfortable. It felt wrong. But in reality, there was nothing wrong about the situation. I think that made it worse.

So I sat back, watching her flirt with him, knowing there was nothing I could do about it. After all he was just a good friend...

I continued to work on the other side of the bar as far from the scene as possible. I was helping a young man when I heard a deep voice call my name. Not wanting to interrupt their obvious moment I pretended not to hear the black haired boy.

Of course he wouldn't give up. Harry quickly called out my name again. This time McGonagall elbowed me in the hip. I knew I was caught so with a quick glare in her direction I turned towards Harry with and raised eyebrow. He smiled and waved me over. I turned back to the man and slide him his drink before heading over to Harry and Cho.

"What's up?" I responded upon arrival.

"Melony I was just telling cho about how you were new to the area."

"Oh, yes" I replied, offering a smile in her direction. "Pleasure to meet you cho."

She warmly smiled and grabbed my hand. "You too. From all the things Harry's told me we'll be great friends."

She said it so sincerely. Immediately I felt like a huge bitch for even disliking her at all in my head. Harry smiled at us before excusing himself to the kitchen. I knew that it was wrong to not give this girl a chance. I prepared myself to turn back towards her.

"It's really nice to meet you. I'm not that great at making friends so It's exciting to have a chance to be close with someone Harry holds in high regards." I offered, extending my hand in greeting. It was polite to do, Right? 

She smiled gently. "Harry talks about you too."

I smiled at that slightly blushing when suddenly her hand tightened around my own. She pulled me to her, nails digging into my skin. "A little too much actually."

I stared into her now venomous eyes. "I don't share well Melony, especially when I've lost my play toys before."

I was confused. What was she talking about "losing her play toy".

"What are you talking about.?"

Apparently that was the wrong answer because her eyes narrowed and she all but spat out at me, "you know what I'm talking about. And let me just inform you that when I want something I always get it." She paused "always.......and right now I want Harry. So you're going to get out of my way. Before I make you."

Before I could respond the kitchen door opened and Cho released my hand. She laughed loudly "Mel, you are too kind." I stared wide mouthed back at her. Completely baffled at her reversal in behavior. "I take it you guys are enjoying the others company." Harry smiled unaware. 

"Oh absolutely! Melony's so sweet."

"Yeah she is" Harry smiled my way and my stomach twisted.

"I'm sorry I feel almost bad for asking but could you get me a a cup of butter beer, original, sprinkle of cinnamon, my breaks almost over."

I snapped out of my trance and looked directly back at the women in front of me.

"Of course." I responded turning to mix her drink. As I turned to hand it to her Harry returned from running out the meals he had been serving. "So your breaks really almost over? I guess ministry hours just aren't what they used to be."

As he was talking and distracted I set her drink down. With snakelike movement she flicked the cup backwards. Everything moved slowly. I jumped reaching for the cup as it collided with the table top and splattered all over my upper body. I quickly lifted the cup, saving the last remnants of the drink.

"Oh Melony." Harry voiced rang sympathetically. I looked up tears brimming my eyes.

"I'll go grab some towels." I heard Harry speak. My focus was however was on the girl sitting in front of me.

"I'm so sorry Melony. I don't know what happened."

I brimmed with anger. I had come here to escape the feeling of distress and helplessness, and I'll be damned if I let anyone else push me that low.

"No, I'm sorry." I turned the rest of the contents of the mug on her head. Satisfaction filled me at her horrified gasp and ruined curls. "I should really watch where I walk."

With that I threw my apron down and raced towards the door where my coat was hanging I saw Harry emerge for the doorway and stare at me. I turned the iron handle. I heard him call my name but it didn't matter, I just needed to get out of there before anyone could see my tears.

Chapter Text

“Melony!” I hear my name shouted from somewhere behind me. But I do not stop. I can’t. Anger burns throughout my very being. I am so sick of being treated as though I am absolutely worthless. I’m even more sick of having to act like it’s okay that people treat me that way. I am not fine. I am not okay. And I'm exhausted from trying to pretend to be. 

I know if I let Harry catch me that it will be exactly what I do once again. But I’ve earned every second of this anger. I will not stop and quell its flames now. 

“Melony”, He shouts again. Although, this time, much closer. 

Suddenly a hand gently holds my arm. Even though his touch is delicate, the unexpected contact causes me to flinch. The slight movement doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry who immediately steps back, sadness coloring his eyes which offer an apology he doesn’t need to verbalize. I hate it. I hate that such a delicate action causes my body to unwillingly react. I hate that my body seems to carry the scars of a trauma I’m not sure I can ever unlearn. And I hate that he knows, despite my best efforts to hide it, something has happened to me. We stand there silently looking at one another. Me, processing both the scene that had just unfolded and my own reactions to his brief contact. Him, assessing whether or not he should continue trying to speak to me. 

I take a deep breath, shutting my eyes. As I exhale, I attempt to release all the anger, fear, and pain in one fell swoop. While it helps me to focus on the present moment, the emotions stay dormant. Buried under my careful demeanor. Finally, I am the one to speak. 

“Harry, I’m fine. Honestly. I just needed a breath of fresh air to clear my head.”

His eyes meet mine. I can see no part of him believes the words I’ve just spoken. His brow is scrunched. I can tell he’s debating on whether or not he should speak about whatever is on his mind. Finally, he seems to find whatever thought he’s having as acceptable; or maybe he just accepts it’s what must be said. With a soft voice, he gently says “you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t believe that Melony. I don’t know many people who pour drinks on people's heads when they’re fine.” 

I’m frozen at his words. Both because of the vulnerability that could come with this line of conversation, and also at the fact that I actually did pour a drink on someone’s head. In my place of employment. Then, to top off everything.... I stormed out. I doubt there was a more dramatic way to act on my anger. My cheeks flush in embarrassment. 

“C’mon Melony” Harry says, taking my prolonged silence as an apparent invitation to continue. “What happened? One second you and Cho were talking and getting to know each other, the next you're storming out and she’s covered in butterbeer. I know I haven’t known you very long, but you don’t seem like the kind of girl who is prone to acting out like this.” 

I look down, avoiding eye contact. I’m frustrated. I guess on the surface I did act out by pouring my drink on Cho. But hearing it described like that, like something bad…It brings me right back to feeling alone. Like no one would ever understand what I’ve gone through. Like no one would understand me. With that one sentence I am given a stark reminder that Harry truly knows nothing about me. Not even my name. If he considers this acting out, what would he really think about the actions that lead me here. My stomach churns at the thought. 

“Yeah, well. Sometimes conversations shift quickly.”

“Melony…” He says looking at me with those wide green eyes. “You can tell me you know? Whatever it was that bothered you, you can tell me.” 

He’s genuine. I can see it in his eyes. He wants to know what happened. But I can’t bring myself to tell him. It’s a slippery slope to let someone close. Harry already affects me. His green eyes, wide and light, could keep me paralyzed in thought. His dark hair is always slightly untamed, showcasing his carefree nature. His kind words and actions I witness daily. I know that this man has the potential to wiggle his way into my life. So, I can’t tell him what happened with Cho. Because if I do… I fear it won’t be long before I end up telling him more. And more. And more. 

I cannot take the risk I’m wrong about him. 

“No. It was nothing. I was being stupid. I appreciate you coming to check on me but honestly, we should both be going back inside.” 

I turn back towards the restaurant, when he gently grabs my arm again. 

“I think we shouldn’t. I think you're keeping something bottled up. And trust me when I say I know how heavy that weight can be. It’s okay to talk to someone melony.” 

“I really don’t wanna talk about it, okay? Why can’t you just leave it be?” 

“Because Melony…. You, you don’t know many people here yet okay? And I just feel like I might be the only person you can really talk to right now. So if you are not talking to me about this, then that means you are keeping it all locked up inside. Carrying it alone. And you don’t have to. There are so many wonderful people in Hogwarts. And, I really think, if you let yourself open up a bit, you could build a really good life here. But to do that, you are gonna have to start talking to more people… more people like Cho. So whatever it was that made you upset, it’s better we just figure it out now.” 

The logical part of my brain is repeating that he isn’t meaning to insult me. That he didn’t hear what Cho said. Clearly, he also didn’t know what kind of person she actually was. But the anger is bubbling up again below my skin. Effectively drowning the logical part of my brain with every word.

I scoff, “Well that’s rich. So now this is all my fault. You know Harry, you have no idea what happened in that conversation. But I can bloody well promise you that it was not MY fault.” 

“Melony, that’s not what I meant-”

“And Frankly, I don’t care about meeting other people here. Especially if they are anything like Cho. I don’t like people like that. People who can act one way when others are around, and immediately change the second you're alone. People who wait to prey on those they deem weaker than them. Waiting for the moment when they know they can’t fight back. Or because they just know they won’t” I didn’t realize how loud my voice had gotten until it cracked on the last word. I become aware of my heart racing in my chest and my breath coming in short bursts.  “Frankly, if my options are being friends with someone like Cho… Well, I would choose to be alone. Yes, I would rather be alone than to have friends that are like her. And if the people that you surround yourself with are anything like her, well then maybe I was wrong about you Harry Potter. I would’ve thought at least you would be able to see the truth about her.” 

I stare directly into his eyes as I say the last part. Wanting to prove that I will not be easily told what I should do. But regret quickly settles over me. I see pain flash in his eyes at my last words as he looks away from me. 

He finally is silent. Though it doesn’t feel like the victory I thought it would be. I don’t feel any relief. Instead the panic I felt before continues to build in my chest. I shouldn’t have said all that. Or, maybe I just shouldn’t have said it in that way. Harry still isn’t looking at me, instead looking at a spot on the ground near his left shoe. I feel the tears welling inside my eyes. I am so frustrated. Frustrated with the whole situation. Frustrated with my past, frustrated with Harry for following me out here, frustrated with myself for what I said, frustrated with myself for hurting him. This frustration boils to life as tears now threaten to leave my eyes. 

Harry was the only person I really had here. The only person I wanted to be around. But it seems like I might’ve just pushed him away too. And I hated myself for it. 

I look down at my own shoes as I will the tears not to fully fall. I wait, expecting to hear the soft crunch of the autumn leaves below his trainers. Signaling the exit I knew was Imminent. 

Suddenly, I felt warm arms around me. My downturned head pressing into a solid surface. A warm head rested on top of mine. I froze in shock. Could it be? That not only did Harry Potter not walk away after the cruel words I’d said. But, here he stood… Holding me. I didn’t know what to do. His embrace was gentle. Soft. It was the first time in a long time that I could understand how people found comfort inside these embraces. This hug was not for any other purpose but to console me. To let me know that I was okay. That I was safe. 

“Melony, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like it was your fault with Cho. I don’t know what happened, and to be honest… I don’t really know her either. You won’t ever need to be around anyone who makes you feel attacked. At least, not here.” He pauses for only a moment, “Melony…I don’t know what you went through before you ended up here, but it’s clear you’ve been through something. You don’t need to explain anything to me now. I can wait. But trust me when I say you no longer have to carry this alone. When you are ready, I will be right here to listen and help you carry whatever it is. You’ll find your people in Hogwarts, just give it some time. And, at least you already found me.” I feel his smile in the last phrase. I know it is meant to cheer me up. But the words coupled with this embrace break something in me. Suddenly, the sobs are welling up from the dark bin I’ve drowned them in for so long. I feel my arms move of their own accord to cling onto Harry, like he is a life line. The tears blur my vision as I cry, in the way I’ve needed to for so long. My brain finally seizes thinking and I just feel. Everything. All at once. 

As I cling tighter to Harry, his own arms strengthen their embrace. Pulling me tighter to him and supporting my weight as his own. 

“It’s alright, Melony. It’s Alright.” He whispers into my hair, his hands rubbing small circles on my back. “Whatever it was, it can’t hurt you now. You’re safe.” 

At this, a fresh round of sobs flood me. Safe.

It seems like such a distant fantasy. The idea of being safe. My life has been all about survival for so long now. I had believed I would never again know a life of safety and comfortability. But here…. In Harry’s arms, I finally think that maybe I could. Maybe everything could be okay. 

Maybe it could be okay soon. 

                                                                                                             🂽🂽🂽

Hermione replayed the earlier moment on a cyclical loop in her head. She was slumped on the headboard of her cozy bed. Her feet are kept warm by the soft overlay of a thick yellow blanket. The night was one of beauty. Rain softly pattering upon the walls in a rhythm Hermione would normally find very soothing. But tonight, it did little to quiet her nerves. 

She didn’t like how she felt in the aftermath of today’s conversation with Harry. 

In the moment, she didn’t really have the ability to contemplate what her actions would mean. She just broke down. She had felt so safe in his warm arms. So comforted and seen. She was beginning to realize she always felt that way when Harry was around. His very aroma seemed to ooze notes of comfortability and relaxation. Setting her off kilter whenever he was able to stand too close. It was dangerous indeed. 

For reasons precisely like this. Sure, today she hadn’t actually talked about anything. Today she just cried and cried, until her body seemed to have physically run out of water. But that was today. If she continued on this path, it would not be long before those tears turned to tales of what she had been through. 

Was she really ready to trust someone like that? 

No. Of course she wasn’t. If she was capable of trusting someone in that regard, she wouldn’t be playing back today’s events constantly. She wouldn’t be blushing in embarrassment over the fact that she had publicly broken down today. And she most definitely would not be sitting here in frustration wondering what Harry was really thinking about today’s events. 

If she had learned anything about that man, it was that he was kind. Kind enough to potentially hold a stranger through an emotional break and soothe them back to calmness. Kind enough to not say to their face that he believed them to be just a little mental. Hermione squinted her eyes against the wave of shame, as if that would somehow make it go away. Absolutely, Harry could think she was mental for the way she behaved today. And she wouldn’t blame him. 

Instead of chasing her anxiety away, the feeling of shame and fear only increased the more Hermione thought back on this event. Sighing in resignation, she let her body slide down until she was laying flat. Her hands fidgeted with the smooth cotton of the blanket as she pulled it up to cover her upper body. She had half a mind to pull it completely over her head, like the girls always did in all those cheesy television shows she would watch. But she figured she had participated in enough dramatics for the day. 

She looked around the spacious room she was occupying. Shades of yellow and maroon danced through every wall and item. A fireplace lay empty against the opposing walls. The wooden logs patiently stacked for a hearth to warm their stance. Banners and portraits decorated the rest of the walls displayed around her. The portraits in her room were not of the current time. They were easily at least ten years old. If not more. The women all wore their hair in soft curls and perfect updos. While the men gazed forward in their crisp suits and tall hats. Nothing about the paintings was inherently disturbing or grotesque, But Hermione couldn’t help but feel slightly unnerved by them anyway. She couldn’t help but have the strangest sensation of being watched by the eyes that were located in those paintings. And in this moment, she couldn’t help but to feel judged by them. 

“Judged by a portrait.” She chuckled darkly to herself “By god, I really have lost it haven’t I?” 

The room, despite Hermione’s current feelings, really was beautiful. It matched the rest of Minerva’s home perfectly. 

Originally Hermione was staying at an old Inn on the opposite side of town from the three broomsticks, called the Hog’s head. The inn had been dark and dingy. And the first few nights Hermione had only prayed that there wasn’t a bedbug infestation about to be thrust upon her, due to the state of her room. She had not loved her initial dwellings, but what other choice did she have? 

On her third day working at the three broomsticks, she had off-handedly mentioned her dwelling to Minerva. Almost immediately, Minerva started on about how that place was no good for a “respectable young woman” like myself. She absolutely insisted that I instead lodge at her home for the time being. Who was I to protest her generous offer? Especially when doing so would’ve meant more time to potentially acquire bed bugs. Yuck. 

In all honesty, there was a small part of me that felt incredibly guilty at intruding in her home. At least, until I saw it, that was. McGonagoll’s home was beautiful. It was located on the outskirts of Hogsmeade town. There was a view of a beautiful lake and tall pines from the front. It truly looked like something out of a fairytale. 

The home itself was large. Unlike the whimsical architecture that coveted the rest of Hogwarts, Minerva’s home stood tall and symmetrical. It was built in the style of a Georgian villa with red clematis growing along the exterior walls of the building. It opened into a wide entry way with a gorgeous hanging chandelier that twinkled like starlight. I had joked with her that the chandelier reminded me of a night sky. She had just smiled with a mischievous smirk, “it reminds me of one too.” A starry sky as a ceiling, imagine that. Straight ahead lies Mcgonagall’s library and personal study. Her library is one I could’ve only dreamed of as a child. Filled wall to wall with thousands of books of every genre. A large hearth roars constantly with orange flames. Keeping a cozy ambience, despite the large size of the room. Two large windows exist on both sides of the room allowing the weather and garden to be seen. On the right, a kitchen and dining room lay. On the left, Is a hall full of multiple rooms. All for guests, except for Minerva’s of course. Which resides at the very end of the second floor. 

Upon seeing the size of the home, I felt a little less guilty about my presence. I was happy to keep Minerva company. The idea of such a large home for one person was lonely to me. I thought perhaps that Minerva had asked me to stay here both to help me out and have some company. 

I learned quickly that company was not a problem for Minerva. I thought back to earlier in the day. 

I had just stepped into the kitchen, focused on putting the kettle on. All of the nerves that had abandoned me in Harry’s arms, had returned full force the moment I had left his side. I figured a cup of tea ought to do the trick in calming me back down. I heard the large front doors drone open.  Minerva was coming in a little later than usual from the Three Broomsticks. I thought about calling out to her, seeing if she would like a spot of tea as well. 

I went quiet, however, at the sound of her voice speaking to someone. Rather Sternly speaking might I add. My eyebrows scrunched. Of course I’d heard Minerva be stern before. She was often this way at work when talking to Harry and I. But I hadn’t yet seen any guests be invited over to her home during my stay. And I doubt it was simply a friend who had come, given the tone of discussion. Could it be that Harry was the person she was talking to. My heartbeat quickened and my mind raced. I was getting far ahead of myself. It didn’t matter who had come over, I would see them eventually. But for now, I was making my tea. I chose to concentrate on that. 

I found myself inspecting the silver material of the tea kettle in front of me. Waiting for the hiss of steam that would indicate my water was ready. I must’ve been more invested in the kettle than I originally thought because a small voice from behind me nearly startled me out of my skin. 

“Who are you?” Hermione turned toward the kitchen doorway surprised to see a young girl standing there. She couldn’t have been more than 7 or 8 years in age. She stood in a yellow sweater and blue jeans, a small backpack over her left shoulder. She had long chocolate curls that were half pulled back so you could see her face. Wide brown eyes were staring at Hermione curiously, waiting for a response. 

But Hermone could not formulate one. She was too busy being shocked at the fact that a young girl, one she had never even heard mention of, was speaking to her. She tried to regain her bearings and formulate a response. I’m Hermione, sat precariously at the tip of her tongue. Melony, your name here is Melony. Her brain whispered. She was so thrown by the unexpectedness, she wasn’t sure what name was going to come out. 

Luckily, she didn’t have to find out which name would’ve been said. At precisely that moment, Minerva appeared behind the young girl and set about making introductions. 

“This is Melony, She’s going to be staying with us for however long she needs. Do try and remember to behave yourself during that time.” Minerva said with a pointed stare at the child. Despite the rigidness of her words, the old woman's eyes betrayed a fondness for the child.

“Melony, this is Theodora. She stays with me most of the year.” Minerva said, turning her gaze to me. 

My mind is racing with this new information. I wasn’t aware Minerva had a daughter. Yet, if this was indeed her child, why did she only stay with her most of the year at such a young age. Could this child indeed be of a different relation to her? Perhaps a niece, or grandchild? 

My millions of thoughts are halted when young Theodora once again speaks, “She took you in too, huh?” 

She is so young. And yet, both her words and phrasing contain a wisdom far beyond her years. She is eyeing me inquisitively. As though she is trying as hard to figure me out as I am with her. 

“Yeah” I finally responded “I guess she did.” Offering a small smile to the girl. I quickly turn my smile to Minerva. The gratitude for all she’s done reflects in my eyes. I suppose it hadn’t fully hit me until right then. 

I am again surprised to feel two tiny arms envelope me in a tight hug. I stare down at Theodora’s smiling face. 

“You can call me Teddy.” She shares brightly. 

“Alright, Teddy.” 

It seems that was all the young girl needed to decide we were officially best friends. Immediately she launched into a laundry list of questions about who I was, and where I was from, and how I met Minerva, and what my favorite part of town was. 

As adorable as it was, I have to admit I found myself quite overwhelmed. The truth is, once I arrived in Hogwarts no one seemed interested in prying into my past. Thus, I hadn’t been required to think of what honest details I should share, and which ones I would need to skew. Having all of these questions rambled off so quickly was… Intense. Because I wasn’t even quite sure which ones I could answer at this moment. 

Minerva seemed to sense my surprise and intervened once more. “Alright now Teddy, you & I both know you have homework in that bag to finish.” She sternly said, lifting an eyebrow in amusement. 

Teddy squinted her face in disdain at the reminder of her school work but quickly turned her small face up to me with a pout. “It’s okay.” She whispered “We will just have to talk later.” she awarded me one last smile before fleeing from the room with a giggle. 

I stared after her with a smile of my own. Her laughter and kindness were a contagious recipe for happiness it seemed. 

Minerva watched her run off with a small smile of her own. Once she was sure, Teddy had gone off to her bedroom, she turned back toward me. “I’m sure Teddy came as quite the surprise for you today. I apologize for not mentioning her residence sooner. Though I am glad to see that you are not someone who is going to have any issue living around a child.” At the last words she gave me a soft smile. “Did you have younger siblings growing up?” 

“No siblings at all, I’m afraid. It was just me. But I never really had many friends growing up. Too much of a studious know-it-all in my youth.” I recalled with a sad smile. “A lot of my weekends were free. So I took to babysitting to fill up the time. Figured if I wasn’t going to be invited anywhere anyways I might as well make some money.” At that we both chuckled. “I did love it though. Taking care of the kids. It always made me wish that I had siblings of my own to be around all the time. I thought maybe it would make my home a little less…. Lonely.” 

Minerva stared at me with softness in her eyes. “Well it shows, you were quite sweet with Theodora. And I know when she starts asking her millions of questions it can be overwhelming.” 

“Better to have millions of questions than none at all, right?” I offer in response.

“I suppose that’s true.” Minerva once again smiles. Though it’s quickly replaced with a grim look. “Theodora, she’s the daughter of some friends of mine. They passed tragically soon after her birth. For the first few years of her life she was living with her grandmother. But by her third year, her grandmother had fallen ill. She could no longer keep up with the demands of a toddler.” As she speaks her eyes look far away, as though lost in a memory. “She doesn’t have anyone left by blood. So there wasn’t really a question when I’d heard the news. I went up to get her straight away. She’s been here with me ever since. Occasionally she goes off for schooling. But typically her tutor is located in Hogwarts, so she’s able to come home after. They had just returned from such a trip tonight. Which is why you had yet to meet her before now.” I felt tears welling in my own eyes and could see the faint mist of them in Mcgonagall’s as well. “It is always tough to see a child grow up in an environment where they have no one. I’m just glad that this time I could do something to help.” Although she is still speaking to me, I have the distinct feeling that her last statement was made to herself more than anything else. The older woman is lost in a memory, her brows furrowed in thought as though she were replaying the past and trying to figure out what could’ve been done differently. I knew that look well. I had worn it myself far too often in the past few years. 

Gently, I laid a hand upon the older woman's shoulders. “That was very kind of you” I said softly “to take her in like that. I’m sure her parents would’ve been very grateful.” 

Minerva once again softly smiled at me. Then, with a formidable exhale, she was rid of the emotional state. She brushed out her black coat and pushed stray hairs out of her face gracefully. It had been a rare occurrence to see Mcgonagall so emotional, and with this change in demeanor I knew it was not something that came easily to her. “Now then,” she chattered, effectively ending the previous conversation. “Shall we discuss what occurred earlier today with you and miss Chang?” Her question is neither sharp, nor angry. But I blush all the same. Embarrassed at my earlier outburst. 

“Yes.” I slowly said, “I suppose I should apologize for that.” 

“On the contrary, I would be remiss to accept an apology if you tried to give it.” This time it is a mischievous smile that graces her face. I am left stunned by her words. My mouth left open in surprise. 

“I do not like bullies, Miss Melony. It takes courage to stand up to one, especially publicly.” She matter of factly states. “All that to say…. I’m proud of you. What you did today is never easy. Would I be incorrect in my assumption that it is not something you have done often in recent years?” with the question I am left looking at her in surprise. I knew this woman was smart, but her perception was far better than what I had assumed. Yet, I faced no judgement in her tone. It felt…safe. Like we were sharing a secret neither would ever retell. “Yes….It’s been a while since I was able to stand up for myself.” I whisper quietly. 

A silence is left between the two of us. One that is comfortable. One that is welcomed. “Well, please continue to make a habit of it henceforth. I rather think it suits you.” She smiles as she begins to walk away from the kitchen. “Although, perhaps next time you can spare the Butterbeer. Wouldn’t want to get the reputation that my staff enjoys pouring it more than serving it.” She says with humor, and I find myself chuckling. “I’ll leave you to your tea Melony.” She voices as she glides from the room. 

Almost instantly, the kettle whistled. 

                                                                                                                🂽🂽🂽

I blink  as the memory fades. The cozy room juxtaposing my continued anxiety. Making the quick thrum of my pulse starkly stand out. 

The unexpected introduction of Teddy had served as a good distraction from my earlier predicament. Or, I guess, my current predicament depending on how you look at it. But with the cooling of my cup of tea, the anxiety crept back in. I couldn’t believe I had allowed myself to be so vulnerable around Harry today. I’m not even sure how it happened. 

He is too easy to be around. Too comforting. In the aftermath I find it quite disarming. Given my situation, I had subconsciously vowed never to let anyone too close again, especially a man. I had seen exactly how easy it was to be misled by someone you thought you knew well. I can’t afford the risk that I could be wrong about someone again. 

In the days following the events of that first fateful night, I had replayed the start of Ron and I a million times. Analyzing every word, every action I could remember. Trying to make sense out of how I could’ve missed the signs. 

In all honesty, I think a part of me wishes that retrospectively I could easily see all of the red flags I must’ve ignored at the beginning. If that was the case, starting over wouldn’t feel so terrifying. I would still be battling the trauma of all that he put me through. But at least I would trust myself enough to read what other people’s intentions could be. 

But I can’t. Because the truth is… even now… after all this time. I still can’t find a single instance where I could’ve seen the signs of what was to come. Ron was perfect. He was kind. He listened when I spoke, and genuinely seemed to care about what it was I said. Sure, sometimes it was clear he thought himself smarter than me. But arrogance is not enough to believe someone could hurt you the way he had hurt me. He said all the right things. Made me feel all the right things. Until he didn’t. 

So, it doesn’t really matter how nice Harry seems. Or, how easy it seems to feel to open up around him. At the end of the day, it isn’t worth the risk. 

And even if he did happen to be a truly perfect and nice man, it doesn’t change the other obvious fact that all of this could be startlingly temporary. 

As much as I would love to believe that I completely left my old life in the past the minute I ran out of Ron and I’s front door, I know it’s not the truth. If Ron is alive, as I largely expect he is, I know there isn’t anything that will keep him from tracking me down. The fact that I left will be nothing more than a challenge to him. A sick and twisted game I have no interest in playing. All I can continue to do is hope I have run far enough that he never stumbles upon me. But at the first sign of danger, I need to be prepared to bolt. I’ve known about it since I arrived. Which is why my effort to grow connections and build a routine here has been less than lackluster. 

There’s no sense in becoming attached to something you know you could have to give up in a moment’s notice anyways. There’s no stability in walking a tightrope. As of now, I see no safe way off of mine. 

I rub my increasingly heavy eyes as I lay my head on the pillows. In another life, perhaps all of this could’ve been different. Maybe I would’ve found the Haven of Hogsmeade through different means. Maybe, I could’ve seen it as my home. Built a life full of these people and all the quiet peace this place had to offer. Maybe I would’ve been able to live my life without always turning to look back over my shoulder. Maybe I could’ve let someone in. 

But, that life isn't mine. And it’s never going to be. 

As sleep slowly descends upon me I am hit with the sad revelation that the events of earlier today can never happen again. No matter how good it felt to be comforted. I will not make that mistake again.

Chapter Text

Hermione sighed, breathing in the steam from her cup of morning tea. She stood looking out of the window above the kitchen sink. She had always liked to look out of her kitchen windows. Found joy in watching the small birds that would fly in and out of the small yard. But it was nothing compared to this. The suburbs were built to prioritize the community. And so, the house she had been in came with a small yard. Just a bit of grass and a few bushes. Minerva’s home was built to admire nature. 

Spread in front of her were endless trees of orange and golden leaves. Turning as the autumn settled more firmly in. A winding dirt path led down into the trees. It didn’t look unsettling, rather cozy and inviting. Grass fields spread from Minerva's home to these trees, making the space feel so much more open and free. 

The cold of the autumn had sunken over the landscape. A dreary gray painted the sky. A damp mist lightly overlaid the scene. She felt the cold seeping into her own bones as she held her warm cup close. 

Among the natural elements, Hermione caught glimpses of wildlife at times. Mostly birds, though there was the occasional squirrel. Once, she had even caught a glimpse of the most gorgeous white barn owl. Resting in one of the tall trees. But this morning was quiet. Devoid of all animals as far as she could see.

 Perhaps it was the mist. 

She continued to watch the scene outside of the window. Taking a small sip of her tea. And then another sip. And then one more. Feeling the warmth run from her throat to her toes. Effectively, silencing any chills that had been heckling her body. 

She closed her eyes. Letting herself revel in the warmth. In that feeling of comfort she had lost for so long. She breathed deep. Knowing there was no reason she needed to feel on edge. No reason to rush to prepare breakfast for somebody else. No reason to not just be in this moment and enjoy it. 

She opened her eyes as a soft smile spread upon her lips. It was then she saw it. The creature stood at the edge of the trees. One front leg bent as though it was pondering on whether it should stay or run. Hermione was shocked to see it was looking directly at her. Or so it seemed at least. 

It was a doe. A beautiful doe. With a chestnut coat speckled with white spots. Its soft brown tones stood out starkly against the gray mist of the morning. Hermione caught her breath. She had never seen this animal before. As she stared at the doe, she was overcome with a sense of relief. She looked again at the position the animal stood in. Ready to flee, yet staying still. Eyeing her with the same interest she watched it with. This animal, she realized, was so much like her. Waiting, ready, but not quite wanting to run. It was a profound realization. One that should’ve even caused emotions to spread. But instead she just felt… peace. Tranquility that in this moment, neither of them had to run and all could just be. She quite liked the feeling. 

She let her smile grow slightly, once again closing her eyes and breathing deep. When she opened her eyes, the doe had gone. But Hermione would not forget its brief visit. 

  ⬻⬻⬻

Hermione sat across from Teddy at the long breakfast table. Two warm bowls of porridge sat in front of each of them. Teddy was taking heaping spoonfuls in between bits of conversation, while Hermione lazily stirred her bowl. Hermione smiled as Teddy enthusiastically recited the amazing time she’d seen a wild deer near the woods. She spoke with so much excitement. Her small arms made large movements as she animatedly told the tale. Hermione wouldn’t be half shocked if she were to find an odd piece of porridge laying on the dining room carpet. Launched from Teddy’s spoon in her bravado. But she loved her all the more for it. 

It would’ve been hard for Hermione to not love Teddy. After her last fiasco, Hermione had asked Minerva if she could be granted permission to take 3 days off work. She had told her she thought the rest would be good for her. Allow her to really adjust to the new environment around her. Minerva had no qualms about that. Rather thought it was precisely what she ought to do. On the condition that she would, indeed, return to work on the fourth day. 

In all honesty, Hermione had needed the time. She hadn’t been ready to face Harry again after her breakdown. She knew he would not push her to say anything she was not ready to. But their reunion felt awkward all the same. She knew she would not be able to pretend that it had never happened. It had. She had broken emotionally and he was the one there to hold her. She just hoped he was not expecting her to continue to open up more . Because that would not be happening again. It couldn’t. 

But while the days off had allowed her to postpone her awkward reunion with Harry, she knew that wasn’t the only reason she needed them. She needed the space to just sit alone with her thoughts. In a home that was warm and full of laughter and safe. She had needed the time to accept that all of this was real. To quietly sort through the thoughts and fears she had been keeping repressed since the first day she ran. Maybe even before then. 

In her time off, Hermione had indeed succeeded at making a friend who was not Harry. Granted, that friend was a spunky seven year old. But a friend Teddy had become nonetheless. 

They had talked about all Teddy was learning in school. Shared favorite stories and legends. Even played a round of chess together (which she was indeed horrible at). 

Hermione truly quite enjoyed hanging out with Teddy. It reminded her of a time before the pain. Before Ron. Before she had lost all traces of her own innocence. 

If things had been different, Hermione thought she’d have quite liked to be a mother. 

But some things just never would come to be. 

In the meantime, she could offer as much care and love to this child who, like herself, had lost much. She might not be able to stay forever, but she could make the moments meaningful. 

Suddenly a hand was waving in front of her face. “Hello, Melony?” Teddy was looking at her with a faux-annoyance. Apparently, she had zoned out when thinking. Laughing she looked directly back at the young girl, “yes Teddy?” 

“Oh good, you can hear me. I was worried you’d gone deaf in the past two minutes. Would’ve been a tragedy.” Hermione laughed again. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry for not listening. Now, what were you telling me Teddy?” 

“Lots of things, but really the question is what was I asking you. You see, I have to go to lessons today. Which means you will be all by yourself. Free of lessons. Which means you will be having so much more fun than me.” The young girl emphasized with a frown, before excitedly asking “What are you going to do?”

Hermione glanced at Teddy, Today her eyes were a startling shade of Green. Hermione had noticed Teddy’s eyes seemed to change color, and apparently the olive tone of her sweater was highlighting the green undertones of her eyes. “ Well, I suppose without you here there won’t be much to do, will there?” She teased, lightly tapping Teddy’s hand with her own. Teddy laughed, looking at her with curious eyes. Still awaiting an answer. A real answer. 

“I’ll probably just read a book or two, honestly.” 

At this news Teddy’s nose turned up in disgust. Hermione laughed again. “ I said I was going to read Theodora, not make you finish all the broccoli on your dish.” 

“It’s basically the same.” Teddy mumbled under her breath. Causing Hermione to further laugh. 

“Oh, come on Melony! You can’t read all day today. It will simply be a waste of a perfectly good, almost sunny, autumn day.” True to her dramatic spirit, Teddy had further illustrated her point by standing from her seat. She had moved over toward Hermione. Ending her dramatic point by grasping her arm and leaning her head on Hermione's shoulder. As though the very thought of reading inside all day made her feel faint. 

Hermione gently tapped Teddy’s nose. “ I know it’s hard for you to understand, but some people actually enjoy a day of doing nothing but reading inside.” 

“Well that was before you had a super awesome friend, like myself.” Teddy argued in return. Hermione just smiled back at her. After a moment, Teddy sighed dramatically. “Please Hermione, You have to promise that you will actually do something today. Something fun . You could learn a new hobby” Teddy excitedly rambled “and then you can teach me a new hobby when I get home from school today.” Teddy was bouncing on the balls of her feet. So excited by the possibility of learning something new. 

“Alright, well what do you propose I do today.” Hermione softly asked the girl. 

Teddy’s brow furrowed in concentration. Her mind likely racing over all the things Hermione could do. Before, suddenly, a smile lit her features. “I know, you could paint!” 

“Paint?” 

“Yes, paint. I have a new watercolor set up in my room with a book you could use. I love painting. That would be so much fun!”

“What would I even paint around here? Especially with watercolors? Aren’t those harder to use?” 

“No silly. They are the most fun to use. But it’s best to use them for nature.” 

“Like the trees outside?” 

Teddy considered it for a moment. “No, like the lake!”

“The lake? What lake?” 

“The lake!” Teddy shouted in excitement “Melony, you haven't seen the lake yet? You have to go today. And you have to paint it.” 

“How can I go to a lake when I don’t even know where it is, silly?” 

“It’s super close. You just follow the dirt path into the woods and take the first right. You’ll see the great lake. You can’t miss it!” 

Exploring the woods wasn’t exactly Hermione’s idea of a day well-spent. But Teddy looked so excited. Hermione decided- “Well, I guess I’ll be going to the lake then.” 

          ⬻⬻⬻

Hermione was surprised to feel the golden rays of the sun reflected on her skin. As she walked along the dirt path toward the lake, she was reminded of the mist and gray of the early morning. How stark a difference this day was compared to that initial view. Though sunny, the air still held a definitive chill. The cold breeze combined with the colored leaves to remind the village how close to winter they truly were. 

Hermione would not complain about the chilly temperatures. She knew sunny days at this time of the year were a rarity. She was just glad that a downpour wasn’t likely to occur during her excursion. 

Hermione enjoyed being outside when it came to snuggling up with a good book beneath a willow tree. Hiking through a wooded forest to a mysterious lane alone… was not quite her favorite activity. Hermione knew she wasn’t the most athletic person. Despite the short distance she traveled, she already felt the exhaustion of the walk settling into her bones. “Teddy better really love this painting” she muttered under her breath. 

Finding the paints had been simple enough. They had been in the third drawer of a small craft bin Teddy kept in her closet. Teddy had also told her where a pad of painter’s paper was. Collecting the brushes, paints, and paper in a small tote bag; Hermione had been ready to begin her journey. 

Now, she had reached the edge of the forest. Please, she thought hesitantly, don't let this lake be too far into this wood. And don’t let me die by mysterious animal attack. 

With a deep breath, Hermione headed into the woods. 

The first right. The first right. You can’t miss it. Hermione repeated in her head Teddy’s words from earlier. Praying the young girl's directions had been true, and not the result of simple childlike memory. 

She followed the dirt path, speckles of sunlight dancing between the orange and red leaves like a soft flame. Soon enough she saw a fork in the path diverging to the right side. Soft blue and green could be seen only a short distance from where she stood now. Hermione smiled. Well, that wasn’t too bad. Not too bad at all. 

Hermione had expected the lake to be beautiful. Most bodies of water usually are. But nothing prepared her for how majestic the scene before her would be. The lake was a dark shade of midnight blue. She supposed a dark lake was something that could easily feel eerie, but the darkness of the lake was offset by the beautiful reflection of the sun upon its surface. The sun sparkled in bright contrast to the dark color of the waters like small jewels in a darkened cave. Ahead of her were green grassy fields that were surrounded by beautiful shrubberies. She could hear the birds softly singing melodies from the tops of the trees. 

But the most beautiful thing of all had to be the structure just towards the left of the lake. Hermione was sure from this viewpoint she couldn’t see all of the building. But what she could see was breathtaking. A charcoal castle sat upon the water. It looks old, yet well-maintained. With many different towers rising to staggering heights. A Hallway stretched between towers with lancet archways allowing a brief window inside. She wasn’t close enough to make out whether anyone was walking through the hall, but she tried regardless. This was something straight out of a fairytale. 

The magic and quiet combined to bring Hermione a true sense of anonymity. Within this space she felt she could just exist quietly. No fears. No painful memories. No worries. Just the breeze in her hair and the sun on her face. Hermione realized she was quite glad that Teddy had been so aptly against her reading throughout the day. How long would it have taken her to come here if Teddy had just let her stay inside the house. Far too long she presumed. This spot looked like it would be quite nice to return to with a book. 

Quickly Hermione sprawled the small blanket she had brought with her on the ground. Settling down, she began to spread out her supplies. “Well, here goes nothing.” she mumbled. Opening the water color palette she began to paint.

  ⬻⬻⬻

Water colors were difficult. Hermione was not a fan of messy things. Yet, it seemed impossible to try and make a solid line with these paints. The pigment spread in unpredictable ways every time she touched the brush to the page. She was trying to accurately depict the lake surrounded by tall trees and greenery. Instead it looked like a blue blob with a few neighboring brown lines. Hermione huffed in frustration. She didn’t take to not performing well at something. She would make this a beautiful painting. 

Hermione was so concentrated on painting well, she failed to hear the sound of another person walking up behind her.

“This is one of your first times painting with watercolors, isn’t it?” A soft voice laughed from behind her. 

Hermione jumped upon hearing the voice. Quickly turning around, she was met with the sight of a young woman. Dressed in a loose sweater, black jeans, and a purple scarf. Hermione’s heartbeat raced. Still trying to figure out who this woman was and how on earth she had so quietly walked up behind her. Hermione knew that this woman likely meant no harm. But her body still held onto the terror of her past. She was tense. And nervous. She eyed the woman closely. Like she could figure out her motivations from such a thing. 

The woman was beautiful. She had pale skin with freckles and hair so red it looked like fire in the sun. Her hair was long and flowing in loose waves over her shoulders. But the most piercing thing about her was her eyes. They were a bright shade of green. The green was vivid. Like the color of sparkling emeralds. It was such a unique color, and yet Hermione found they reminded her of someone. 

The girl tilted her head and smiled in soft amusement. Likely, Hermione realized in embarrassment, because she had been continuously staring at her in silence. In the tilt, Hermione saw something else in her eyes. Her eyes were incredibly kind. And warm. She was suddenly struck by the fact that she indeed had seen eyes similar to this before. 

Harry’s eyes. They held the same warmth and sincerity within them. Like somehow you could see the good of their soul seeping out of those wide eyes. Hermione made an unusual decision. She decided that perhaps it was time to start finding trust with people again. Perhaps it was time to try and make a friend. 

Clearing her throat and looking up with a sarcastic smile she joked “Is it that obvious?” 

The woman took Hermione's response as a signal she was welcome and moved toward Hermione. Her laugh was a jolly sound. Echoing from deep in her belly. She plopped down on the blanket next to Hermione like she had known her for years. Like this was something they would do often. Not like she was a stranger she had just met in the woods. Hermione found that she quite liked that. It made her feel more at ease. 

“Afraid so!” she chuckled. Before closely inspecting the picture. “Either you just so happen to be some sort of master in abstract artwork, or that blue blob there is meant to be the lake.” She softly teased. 

“Hey, that blob took a lot of effort I’ll have you know.” Hermione responded with her own laughter. 

A soft silence settled over the clearing. Nervously, Hermione decided that continuing the conversation couldn’t hurt. 

“So you seem to know quite a bit about painting, especially abstract pieces like my own. Is that something you do often? Paint, I mean?” 

The woman smiled. “I do. Well, as a hobby of course. I’m a woman of many interests. My primary ones being around creating healing remedies and medicinal herbology, but I won’t bore you with all of that.” Hermione smiled. She understood what it was like to be fascinated with subjects others found positively boring. She rather thought this woman and her were going to become fast friends indeed. 

“But here’s a helpful tip. You see how the pigment of the colors is spreading uncontrollably? How the colors themselves seem slightly too dull when compared to how they look in the palette? Well the reason is because you are letting the brush carry too much water to the page. Painting, especially with water colors, is all about balance. Too much water and you have little definition and dull colors. Not enough water and your paint will look dry and scratchy.” As the woman spoke she picked up one of the brushes. Gently, she swirled it in the water before lightly tapping it twice on a paper towel. Dipping it into the blue paint, she drew a beautiful bright curved line over Hermione’s blob. Hermione gasped seeing how different these paints could look. Excitedly, she dunked her own brush again. Copying the woman’s prior movements, she drew an outline that looked much more like a lake. 

“Perfect!” The woman said as Hermione laughed in triumph. 

“Thank you” Hermione said genuinely. This woman was being so kind. Aside from Cho, that seemed to be a running theme with the people in this town. Hermione was finally letting herself start to appreciate it, instead of constantly questioning it. 

“Anytime.” The woman smiled in response. She settled comfortably onto the blanket as Hermione continued painting. Staring out at the water. 

“So, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, I tend to be quite comfortable conversing with strangers. The good thing about that is that I know most people in this town. But I don’t recognize you…” The woman trails off, silently asking who Hermione is. 

“Well, that would be because I’m quite new to town. Only a few weeks here really.” 

“Ah, that would explain it then. And are you settled? In town, I mean? Found a job and all.” 

“Yes. I’m actually working over at The Three Broomsticks currently. Just waitressing really. I know it’s nothing fancy, but I quite like the people there.” 

“I used to love that place.” The woman says with a somber smile and a far off look in her eyes. “You're right about the people, you know? I don’t think you could’ve picked a better spot to go to than there. Mcgonagall is one of the greatest women i’ve ever met. Right scary if you act out of sorts, but great nonetheless.” She adds with a smile. 

“You know Mcgonagall?” Hermione asks excitedly. If Mcgonagall had known this woman, she certainly couldn’t be bad. She had the metaphorical senses of a bloodhound. Mcgonagall could spot trouble from a mile away, and she had no qualms about bluntly calling out said trouble. 

“Oh yes, from back in my schooling days. She was one of the people I would bother the most about all my research.” Hermione laughed and the woman shook her head with a smile. “But not just her, the staff includes quite a few of Hogsmeade's finest in my personal opinion.” At this statement her smile changed to be one of mischief. As though she was a part of an inside joke Hermione couldn’t understand. “That Harry Potter, for example, one of the nicest lads most have ever met, you run into him yet.” 

Hermione felt the blush spread through her cheeks. Keeping her eyes on the painting, she muttered back “Yes. He is a very nice man indeed.” 

Hermione couldn’t see the soft smile that spread across the woman’s face at her words, sensing that Hermione would not be open to pursuing conversation about her coworker further, the woman decided to switch topics. 

“So, you said you recently moved here, right?” At the question, Hermione looked up and nodded. “Why Hogsmeade then? Do you have family in the area? Friends who already lived nearby.” 

Hermione sat pondering how to answer this question. Of course she knew the real answer to this question was that hogsmeade was the last stop on the railway. The farthest she could run away from her old life. But as much as this woman had been kind and warm, Hermione wasn’t going to open up to her about all of that. She wasn’t going to open up to anyone about all of that. 

Rolling back her shoulders, she answered “No Friends and no family here. I’d actually never heard of this town before I stepped off the train.” The woman tilted her head in curiosity. “Well, Hogsmeade is definitely not a town that many know of.” She chuckled “Which makes the question all the more curious, Why’d you choose to be here?” 

Hermione looked out at the lake. Reflecting on all she’d been through since that day in her kitchen. Suddenly, the answer was clear to her. So simple, she could hardly believe she hadn’t said it before. 

“Why not?” 

The woman smiled slowly in response. “Why not, I quite like that as an answer.”  Both women were looking out onto the lake, taking in the beauty around them. 

Softly, the woman spoke again, “Sometimes a fresh start is all you need to find the life you always wanted.” 

The words settled over hermione with a vigor. A fresh start. Could it be that she really had finally found it. That she was safe here in this small town. With these kind people. Could she start over anew? She didn’t know. But everyday she wanted it to be true more and more.

“You know I'm just now realizing that we’ve been talking this whole time and I never actually got your name…” The woman said. 

“I’m Melony.” Hermione said, extending her hand. The woman smiled brightly at her, accepting her hand in a firm shake. 

“My name’s Lily.” 

Chapter Text

Hermione took a deep breath as she prepared herself to open the doors to the Three Broomsticks. Her short vacation had come to an end. Finally, it was time to once again face Harry Potter. Opening the door, she was met with the cozy smell of butterbeers and vanilla. 

She moved quickly towards the bar. Efficiently avoiding eye contact for as long as she could. She was almost surprised that she had not seen him yet. Or heard him for that matter. She quickly tucked her bag beneath the counter in a small compartment. 

“Well, long time no see.” She stood to see Harry standing beside her. A wide grin spread lopsidedly across his face. “I was beginning to think that you were never coming back.” 

She felt a smile grace her own face against her better judgement. “Don’t be a dramatic potter.” she laughed back “I was only gone for three days.” 

“Three days to you. But ironically, Mr. Filch chose all three days to order a Shepard’s pie. He’s very particular about how his pies are made. And you left me here to face him. alone. ” Harry’s eyes gleamed with a hint of mischievousness. She felt the warmth in her cheeks and the small flutters of her stomach. Hadn’t she just been feeling those same flutters moments ago? For such different reasons? Out of fear that he would treat her differently? Fear that he would bring up what had happened? 

Indeed, she had been. But now she was standing in front of him, and he was making her laugh about the simplest conversation. As though the situation had never even happened. Hermione wasn’t sure which outcome was truly worse. 

She hated that in only a few moments he had managed to completely set her at ease. She was supposed to be stronger now. Better able to guard herself. Yet, her walls continued to threateningly shake whenever Harry was around. Like an earthquake preparing to completely demolish them. 

Still, she laughed. 

“Well, I’m back now. And I promise, you won’t be missing me at all in the future. Before you know it Harry, I do believe you are going to be entirely sick of me.” 

“Well now that’s just mad. I don’t think I could ever really be sick of you.” Harry said the words with such ease. As if they didn’t completely overcome her entire being and make her ache to reach for him. Ache to let herself open up more. As though it were simply facts he was stating. 

Hermione was quiet, staring intently at the ground. She had promised herself she was going to correct this whole situation. That she was going to move on. But how could she if he kept saying things like that? 

Harry must’ve noticed her mood shift. Though if he associated it with his previous statement. He didn’t let it show. 

“You feeling better?” he asked with a more solemn mood. “After the time off, then? Are you doing better?” 

His eyes held such concern and care. And it was there for her. She knew he was extending an olive branch of sorts with this statement. Opening up the conversation for if she wanted to talk about their prior conversation further. But leaving it simple enough that she could shut it down if she so chose. She was grateful for it. 

“Yes, much better. A little pause was exactly what I needed.” She said with a soft smile as she turned and started organizing the clean cups. She hoped he would understand her subtle ending of their conversation. Take the hint of her performing “busy work” as a signal she was not open to speaking more. 

He remained standing in his same spot. Gazing at her in contemplation. His stare burned into her back, so present she could almost physically feel it. He seemed to have decided to chance it. He had just opened his mouth, when Mcgonagall rushed through the kitchen doors to where they stood. 

“Potter! Why have you not come back to grab our patrons' food? Did you think they wanted the dishes cold? ” 

“No Professor, I just wanted to say hello to Melony when she first walked in.” 

At this Mcgonagall looked at her with exasperation. “Well, you’ve said hello to her. Now, if you don’t mind, I would rather enjoy you getting back to work now… and chatting with Miss Melony later .”

At this Hermione let out a soft chuckle. Harry noticed and shot her another smile. “I’m on it Minerva.” He winked before heading into the back. Minerva followed after him, slightly shaking her head. Muttering something about the usefulness of a pocket watch. Hermioned watched them both fondly. 

She wasn’t sure of Harry and Minerva’s relationship outside of coworkers. But she knew there was one there. Minerva was almost maternal when interacting with Harry. But not in the stereotypically sweet way. In a strict, someone’s gotta be able to get your head on straight, kind of way. Despite her sometimes exasperated expressions, Hermione could tell that she cared for the man. And that she respected him. Harry clearly cared about her as well. It was clear he trusted and respected her opinion. It made their banter all the more entertaining to witness. 

As Hermione set about working for the day, she reminded herself that she would be keeping her guard up with Harry. She could do this. She prayed she could. 

---

As her shift closed up, Hermione was stuck next to Harry at the bar. Both of them are dealing with the end of the work day rush. They danced around each other in close proximity. God, Hermione was really trying here. To just be nice but aloof. To put a little separation between the two of them. But as Harry reached for another glass, his arm was brushing hers. And he was whispering some random joke about the crazier patrons they were helping. She laughed quite a few times, but she did not contribute to the conversations the way she had before. It wasn’t perfect…. But it was a start. She would count that as a win today. 

As she went to leave, she heard his voice call her name from behind the bar. Leaning over it he looked directly into her eyes. Directly into her soul, it felt more like. 

“You sure everything’s okay, Melony?” She glanced back at him, hesitating for only a moment. 

“Yeah… Yeah everything’s great.” She could see he didn’t really believe her. But she had pushed her luck far enough today. She needed to get far away from this place. Far away from Harry Potter. 

She walked out with one last small smile. She knew she should feel good about the fact that she had held herself strong around him. But instead, she just felt… sad. 

You’re only doing what you have to . She quietly reminded herself. 

She hated that it was getting harder to believe that. 

---

Harry watched Melony’s back as she exited the pub with a furrow in his brow. He was confused… and maybe a little concerned.

The last time he had seen Melony, it had been when he cradled her to his chest as she sobbed. Broken and exhausted. 

He had known the moment he met her that she was carrying something heavy. He could see it in her eyes. A distant fear and brokenness. He knew that look well, it stared back at him every time he looked into the mirror. He promised himself that first day that he would be there for this girl. Help her in whatever way he could. Just to see some of that pain go away. And for a while, he had thought he was making some progress. 

He saw her frame become slowly lighter and more relaxed. Instead of always tensed, like she was constantly prepared to run. 

And then she’d broken down. Harry knew that was not something that could’ve been easy for her. But as he held her that day, whispering soothing words he knew she didn’t really comprehend, he had really thought that they connected. That from then on, it would just take some time to get her to open up more. 

Instead, it’s as though they moved 10 steps backwards. She’s distant. He hates it.  

He hopes it wasn’t something he did or said. She had seemed okay when she first arrived. Logically, he knows it probably has nothing to do with him. He remembers not wanting to talk to anyone about what he’d been through. Still doesn’t most days. He knows she’s likely embarrassed and scared. He just wishes he knew how to let her know she doesn’t need to be. To let her know he’s here and willing. Willing to listen and willing to take care of her. 

Sighing, he returned to tending to the patrons of the bar. Melony was pulling away from him and he didn’t know how to stop it. He knew he would need to just give her space. Praying that she would decide to slowly let him back in with time. 

Chapter Text

Hermione fussed around the kitchen with haste. She looked through the tiny lunch box in front of her. It had a small peanut butter and jelly sandwich (with none of the end bits of course), a small sausage roll, and a handful of bright red strawberries. “This should be enough right” Hermione mumbled to herself in slight distress, “a young girl can’t need more than this to get through her day….right?”. Pausing in hesitation, she moved towards the cupboard. Surely, the addition of a cereal bar wouldn’t hurt. After all it would be better to have Teddy waste food than go hungry on her watch.

Today Hermione was going to be walking her young companion into school. Hermione had the day off from work, so when Minerva had asked if she would mind accompanying the young girl she hadn’t needed to think twice before accepting. But she didn’t factor in… this. The whole idea of a small child being reliant on her for their essential nutrients and water and overall ability to make it through their day was not short of terrifying to Hermione. She was so afraid to let Teddy down. So afraid she was going to inevitably do something wrong.

She looked back through the lunch again. “Water.. I didn’t give her any water.” Hermione muttered quickly moving to address the forgotten item.

“Ahem.” She heard the small voice clear behind her. “I already got my own water, thanks.” Teddy’s wide green eyes gleamed up at her. In her tiny right hand she held a small bottle of water, her left held her backpack.

“Oh,” Hermione paused. “That’s wonderful. I already packed your lunch.” Teddy comfortably approached the countertop to inspect the given foods as Hermione rambled on. “It’s all great stuff. I mean.. I think it’s great stuff. But if there’s anything you don’t like we can switch it. Or if you have any allergies… Oh god, I didn’t even think about food allergies. Do you have any? You’re not allergic to peanuts righ-”

A small hand resting on her arm caused her to pause in the middle of her sentence. Teddy was looking up at her fondly. Her wild curls pulled back in a loose, messy ponytail. “Melony” the young girl giggled. “You worry too much.” She zipped the lunch bag up and tossed it into her bag. Before turning and heading toward the door.

Hermione smiled at the young girl's back before taking a deep breath. She was right, she was worrying far too much.

Hermione met Teddy by the front door, and grabbed the young girl's red coat. She helped Teddy put the old coat on gently. “You’re sure you won’t want a beanie? Or a scarf? It might get quite windy today…”

Teddy shook her head “no” with confidence. “Well, All right then.”

As Hermione opened the front door, Teddy's small hand found hers. “Melony, do you want to be a mother one day?”

It was such a big question. One that took Hermione by complete and utter surprise. But, she supposed, kids were meant to do that kind of thing. Ask such deep and insightful questions in the same way adults would ask about the weather or the recent football match. “Oh- ah, I- I don’t really know Teddy…. I suppose one day I might. Maybe.” She smiled down at Teddy.

Teddy glanced straight back at her with serious, inquisitive eyes.”Well” She whispered, as though she were sharing a deep secret “I think you would make a really good mother.”

Teddy’s bright smile was met by a soft smile of her own. “Thank you.” She whispered gratefully back.

---

Apparently, there was a strict rule against boring walks into school. Or, so Teddy claimed. And so Hermione quickly found herself wrapped up in multiple child-like games.

They had just finished up yet another round of One- Sentence. A game in which they made up a story by switching off who said one sentence. Their story hadn’t made much sense though. What started as a girl going to town to buy flowers had ended with her being turned into a fairy goose who lounged by the nearby “enchanted” lake. Hermione didn’t think she was creative enough for another story.

“I have an idea” she started “What if we see how many different animals we can spot?”

Teddy’s eyes gleamed in delight. “Like a challenge? To see who can see more.”

Hermione laughed. “Sure, It can be a challenge.” Teddy nodded excitedly.

They were entering town now, and Hermione swept the area to see what she could find.

“ I see a Blackbird.” Hermione smiled, Pointing up towards the red and yellow leaves hanging overhead.

“Where?” Teddy said, scrunching her nose up as she looked above them through the trees.

“Right there, see?” Hermione pointed up at the small creature again.

Teddy smiled when she saw it. Able to stare in awe for only a moment, before it flew away. “Cool.” She muttered.

They continued their journey. “I see an orange cat.” Said Teddy with pride, Noticing the large ginger fluff-ball that often sat in the windowsill of Gladsrags. “Very nice,” Hermione responded.

“Hmmmm… I see a squirrel.” Hermione pointed out. The small creature darting across the road.

“I see an Owl. A white owl!” Teddy exclaimed in excitement. Hermione glanced around confused. Surely, she would’ve seen a white owl had one been present. “What, where Teddy?”

“Right there.” Teddy smiled mischievously while pointing to a wooden sign hanging above the Post Office.

Hermione laughed “That can’t count. That’s not a real owl Teddy!” Hermione just smirked back at her. “You never actually said it had to be a living animal. You just said we had to be able to see them.”

Hermione laughed. Teddy was truly quite clever. “I suppose you're right. That leaves us tied up. We can’t have that, can we?” Teddy smiles back at her question.

Hermione glances around, “Hmmmm…. I spot…. I spot-.”

“Uncle Harry!” Teddy's shout startled Hermione as she turned to look at the young girl. “Uncle who-” But before she can finish Teddy is gone and dashing away from her. Hermione feels the panic rise in her throat for only a moment before she sees who Teddy is racing toward.

It’s him. Of course it is him. She had speculated that Minerva and him had some sort of personal friendship. She supposes she should’ve automatically assumed that he would also know Teddy as well.

At the sound of Teddy’s voice approaching she sees Harry turn with a smile. He had been standing and talking with Mrs. Sprout, the owner of Bewildering Blooms flower shop. But the conversation was quickly forgotten when he realized the tiny Teddy was racing toward him. Laughing he bent down to swoop her up in a spinning hug. Her laughter rang loudly out as he spun her.

Hermione couldn’t help the butterflies that erupted in her stomach. It was already dangerous to see Harry alone. But to see this? Him interacting with a child. In a way that was so clearly loving and gentle. Hermione was sure this would be the end of her. Still she didn’t stop the smile on her face at the sight of the two of them together.

She slowly continues walking toward where they are.

“Hey little wolf.” He affectionately ruffles Teddy’s hair while holding her in arm. “What are you doing out this way?”

She giggles fighting his hand off. “I’m going to school, Uncle Harry” She lectures him through laughs.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yes, Uncle Harry.” Suddenly she brightens up. “You’re still coming to the family picnic this week, right? I already told Mrs. Longbottom that you are. So, you really can’t not come now.” She smiles triumphantly.

“Is that already this week? Well, I don’t know. I suppose I could beg Minerva for the day off.” At this response Teddy playful shoved Harry again, to which he responded by feigning injury to the shoved arm. “Uncle Harry!”

“Alright, Alright. I’ll be there little wolf, you know I'll be there.” Harry responded smiling. “But back to the matter at hand. How are you here, when I happen to know that Minerva is already at the broomsticks?”

Teddy smiled widely before gesturing to where I was approaching with a dramatic hand wave. “Melony is walking with me to school today. She’s my new best friend.”

I see Harry pause as he registers that it’s me walking towards him. See, the slight shift in his eyes. And the slight upward curve in his smile. “Well, is that so?” He smiles at me like the two of us are sharing a secret. “She’s your best friend over me?” He teases Teddy.

“Uncle Harry, you’re my Uncle Harry… You're not my best friend.” Teddy explains logically.

“Ouch, tough crowd.” Harry laughs at me to which I let a small laugh of my own free.

Teddy scrambles loose from Harry's arms, and he carefully bends to help her find footing again.

“Hermione. This is my Uncle Harry.” She excitedly says to me. Pulling me closer to him in greeting.

I laugh in a relaxed manner. “I actually know Uncle Harry already.” I smile down at her.

Teddy’s wide eyes find me in shock. As she’s processing, Harry speaks up. “We work together, at the Three Broomsticks, Little wolf.”

Teddy glances up at me in confusion. “You have to go to work with him?” she questions.

“Yes.” I gently respond.

“I’m sorry.” She says very seriously with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes.

“Okay, now. None of that miss. I’ll have you know I am a delight to work alongside.” Harry teases as he once again lifts Teddy up off the ground. The young girl erupts into giggles once more. “Isn’t that right Hermione.” He asks me teasingly.

“Oh yes” I confirm. “An absolute delight.” Teddy rolls her eyes playfully before grinning back at me. “At least, 70% percent of the time that is.” At this Teddy once again begins giggling and Harry shares a warm smile of his own. I hate that his smile causes a slight blush to rise across my cheeks. That one action could send warmth pooling through my entire body.

Smiling shyly, I look at the pair of them together laughing. And framed in their thick coats. Outlined by the oranges, reds, and yellows of the autumn trees surrounding us. I suddenly wish I had a camera to capture the beauty of this moment. To freeze it in time forever.

Which isn’t the kind of thoughts a wandering nomad should be having about people who are supposed to be just temporary to her.

Shaking my head, I bring myself back to reality. “Well, Teddy. We better get going. We don’t want you to be late for your class.”

I smile back at Harry, in a silent goodbye. “Uncle Harry can come with us too!”

Harry smiles at her enthusiasm. But I know this conversation has likely pushed him behind schedule. He would be late to his shift. “I’m sure Harry can’t be late to work Teddy.” I hint.

Teddy scoffs “He can be late to walk me. Auntie Minnie won’t care anyway. She loves uncle Harry. Though she would never say it out loud. He could get away with anything with Auntie Minnie.”

“Yeah” Harry smiles mischievously behind her. “I could get away with anything.”

I try to fight my responding smile, but I once again fail.

“Oh, you two are trouble indeed.” I say as they share mischievous grins.

“You have no idea.” Teddy smiles brightly as she reaches toward me. She takes my hand in her right hand and Harry’s in her left. “Let’s go!” She excitedly exclaims. And together we walk towards her school house. Hand in Hand.

---

Teddy excitedly exclaims how amazing it is that two of her favorite people are already friends. She begins insisting that we will all have to hang out together more in the future. And with each sentence, all my plans of avoiding and removing Harry from my life become more and more of a fantasy. I know I won’t be able to say no to her. Especially not without her questioning why. I just hope that as I spend more time alongside Harry, I will be able to keep the boundary I’ve set for myself. No falling in love. No building anything permanent. But as I continue to listen to them interact. Even that seems harder to abide by.

“I know!” Teddy suddenly exclaims with delight as her small yellow school cottage comes into view. “Melony, you can come to my family picnic too! And then we can all hang out there. It would be perfect!”

“Oh-” I responded a little bit shocked. Part of me wants to decline, but her little eyes glance back at me and I remember Minerva talking about her that very first week. How she had no family left. No one by blood. And yet, she stood there smiling up at me. Like me, coming to her picnic would be all she could ever need.

“Please Melony.” She begs with a smile, as though she already knows my answer. “Pleassseeee.”

Smiling, I bend down to her level. “Well, I suppose a picnic could be nice.”

She grins widely before enveloping me in a tight hug. I hold her just as tight. And let myself remember what it feels like to be loved for just a moment. I haven’t known Teddy long, but I already knew I would stand between Hell and High water to protect this girl. To be able to be someone that was there for her… someone she wanted to be there for her….. Well, it felt pretty great.

She broke away suddenly sprinting towards her school. “Bye Uncle Harry! Bye Melony!” She exclaimed backward of her shoulder. Her bundles of energy appearing instantly. I chuckle in affection watching her run, still from my squat near the ground. I was unprepared to look up and find Harry’s eyes already on me. A look in them I can’t quite place. Something fond, gentle, and maybe a little…hopeful.

I break his stare quickly standing with an awkward smile. “Well, you should probably head to work now. Before Minerva sends out the calvary in search of you.”

My joke is awkward, but I'm suddenly overwhelmed. Without Teddy there, we’ve lost our barrier. Our reason to keep distracted and at a safe distance. Suddenly, it’s just us two.

Harry smiles gently. Like he can read all the thoughts in my head. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want that.” He softly says “I’ll see you for that picnic, Melony.”

“I’ll see you,” I responded. Then I watch him walk off into town. Back towards where the Three Broomsticks lie.

Oh Hermione, I think worriedly, What have you gotten yourself into?

Chapter Text

Hermione sits quietly near the edge of the lake. A soft breeze passes by her face and she huddles further into her coat. Her eyes dart silently across the page of her book. 

Everything is quiet. Peaceful. Tranquil. 

She feels the movement in the blanket before she hears her. “Another new book, Melony?” Lily asks with a laugh “Where do you find all the time to fly through these novels.” 

Hermione would like to reframe her earlier statement. Everything was peaceful. 

She looks up with a laugh of her own. “Oh, please Lily. Like you are any better yourself.” 

Lily huffs in amusement. “I am. That’s the concerning part. No one should be consuming knowledge at a rate even faster than me.” Lily grins up at her mischievously. Kicking off her boots and perching back on her elbows. 

Hermione laughs again. Shaking her head in amusement at Lily. She’s not sure how she managed to be lucky enough to bump into lily that first day at the lake, but she was forever grateful for it. Since then, Hermione and Lily had met at the lake consistently. Some days they would just sit and talk, other days Hermione would read while Lily painted. Though Lily still tried to encourage her to test her artistic capabilities once more each time. She had truly made a friend in Lily. And god had she needed one. With Lily, the walls that existed around Harry didn’t exist. Probably because Lily didn’t make her heart race in the same way Harry did, though that was a thought Hermione firmly wanted to ignore. Lily also didn’t push her into talking about her past.  They bonded over gossip about the individuals in town. Stories from Lily’s younger university days. They giggled about Teddy’s antics. And often got caught up in detailing their favorite novels to one another. It was nice. It made Hermione truly feel like her old life had never existed. Even if only for a moment. 

Lily had a way of making Hermione feel comfortable and seen. She knew Lily understood her love for knowledge in a way many others simply…..didn’t. She enjoyed being able to talk to someone about more bookwormish focuses and having them be excited too. But Lily was also so vastly different from her in ways. Lily was confident. Bold. Brave. 

She was fun and unafraid to break the rules occasionally. She was able to pull out a more open side of Hermione, a side that wasn’t so afraid of just being….. Well, herself. Lily also understood the need for freedom well. Outside of the lake, Hermione didn’t often see her around town. Lily had explained that she was always exploring. Either out in nature around Hogsmeade, or sometimes even journeying nearby on whims to see something new. Hermione admired Lily’s free spirit. It also comforted her. She knew, on some level, that if she were to have to flee Lily wouldn’t judge her. Wouldn’t feel betrayed or blindsided. In fact, she would probably be cheering her on from afar. With the same mischievous grin, saying “I didn’t think that one had it in her.” 

“Well, then.” Hermione retorts playfully “Perhaps you should stop laying about and pick up another novel so you can catch up with my reading. Then you won’t need to be so concerned.” 

Lily laughed, pushing her gently in a playful manner. “Or” she said, sitting up green eyes bright, “You can put the book down and tell me all about your coworker.” 

At this Hermione’s brow furrowed. At once all of her thoughts of her book were gone. Closing it, she turned to face Lily. “McGonagall?” She asks in confusion. 

Lily laughs loudly at that, her full belly in the echo of it. “No, my dear. Not that coworker.” 

Lily’s looking up at her with that mischievous grin again, only this time it doesn’t feel so funny to Hermione. Hermione feels the nerves buzz beneath her skin, though she chooses to say nothing and continue looking at Lily in confusion. 

Lily shakes her head at Hermione, as if to ask do you really think that I think you don’t know who I’m talking about? But she sits tall and faces Hermione all the same. “A little birdie told me..” Lily emphasizes with a grin “That you and Mr. Potter have been getting quite close indeed.” 

Hermione swallows thickly. How was she going to get out of this conversation without revealing too much? Much like Minerva, it seemed that Lily was a bloodhound when it came to sniffing out the truth. Hermione knew one wrong move could put this questioning in a very dangerous direction. If she was honest, she knew the fact that they were even having this conversation meant Lily must already suspect something. 

“Who told you that?” Hermione took care to keep her voice steady and calm. Acting nonchalant and aloof to the question. 

She was surprised by Lily’s answering scoff. “The better question, my dear, would be who hasn’t told me that. I mean all the girls in town are talking about it.” 

A spark of fear must have flashed in Hermione’s eyes. Briefly enough that Lily caught it and became aware of the slight shift in her demeanor. “Not talking about it because of you, of course. None of them even know that we are friends. I didn’t mean to imply that everyone is talking about you, you know?” Lily says compassionately. Hermione’s brows once again furrow at this statement. If the girls in the town aren’t talking about this because of their opinions of her, then why…….

Lily continued with her answer, as though she had read the very thought on Hermione's mind. “It’s just that….. It’s Harry, you see. I don’t think it would matter who he talked to. The fact that he’s talking to anyone is out of the normal. He’s been this town’s most eligible bachelor since…. Well, since… Since his whole life, technically. And yet, there has never really been a successful woman at turning his head. Though many, and I emphasize many, have tried.” At the last part, Hermione cannot stop the small smile that graces her face. Nor, the blush that warms her cheeks. Lily laughs lightly, “I don’t think you understand just how many women in this town are absolutely envious of you. You did the one thing none of them could.” Lily turns to her with a genuine smile. As though this information should comfort her. But it doesn’t. 

Sure, there is a small part of Hermione that flutters at the thought of her being the only one able to capture Harry’s attention. But the larger part of herself just feels…. Scared. And wrong. Like she’s intentionally harming someone she would never, ever want to. 

Hearing that Harry is only this taken with her hurts Hermione. Because she knows she can never truly love him back. Not in the way he deserves. 

Looking away from Lily, Hermione crosses her arms across her chest. “Well, they’re all wrong.” She says emotionlessly. “Whatever they think it is they see between Harry and I, they’re wrong. There is nothing between us.” 

At this Lily looks at her with confusion. “Melony, it’s only me.” She says softly. “You don’t have to hide how you feel around me.” 

Although a part of Hermione already suspected Lily’s (correct) observation, hearing the truth out loud was terrifying. Hermione wasn’t ready to admit what she felt for Harry. Hermione wasn’t anywhere near ready to say she had healed enough to try to find another love. And she didn’t know if she ever would be. 

“I know” Hermoine snips back defensively. “I’m not hiding anything. There’s no merit to what anyone’s saying. Honestly, I don’t see Harry that way at all.” 

Lily doesn’t believe her. She can see it written all over her face. And it makes her pulse quicken even more. 

“You know there wouldn’t be anything wrong if you did feel something for him, right?” Lily asks softly. “I mean he’s a kind man, incredibly brave and loyal too. He’s beloved by almost everyone in town…… you could do a lot worse for yourself Melony.” 

Hermione feels sick. Her stomach turns upside down where she sits. Because of course she knows. Everyone knows, apparently. How perfect and amazing and wonderful Harry Potter is. And it was her rotten luck that she had to meet him after she had been sent through hell first. After she could no longer trust the amazing love he had to offer. 

“I’m aware, thanks.” Hermione bites back quickly. “But, nothing is happening or will ever happen, between Harry and I. We are coworkers. And that is it.” She states sharply. “I mean, we are hardly even friends Lily.” she scoffs as she says the last sentence.

Lily’s eyes shift. There's determination there that Hermione doesn’t quite understand. And yet, sadness as well.  Maybe Hermione should be able to figure it out, but right now she’s too frustrated too. 

“I wouldn’t consider walking Teddy to school together and talking all the time, “not friends”, but if that’s what you feel, Melony.” Lily suggests. 

Hermione wishes she had just let it go. That Lily had just accepted her first answer and believed nothing was going on with them. Because now she is upset and anxious. And she feels she is about to reveal something she should not. 

“Listen, Lily.” Hermione begins her voice shaky. “I appreciate what you think you are doing with this. I know you think you are just looking out for what’s best for me. But believe me when I say this is not it. He is not it. Okay?  And- it isn’t even him actually. It’s anyone. Because the truth is, I don’t know if I'll ever be able to trust someone enough to actually love them. And even if I somehow, miraculously, figure out how to trust someone…. He still wouldn’t…. He wouldn’t” Hermione huffs in frustration. “He wouldn’t understand what I've been through…..okay?” Hermione slowly slides her legs closer to her chest. Unconsciously curling in on herself. “Nobody would.” she mutters the last part. More to herself than anything. She’s staring off at the lake. Lost in the various memories. Head clouded with everything that was, and could never be. 

Suddenly, she feels a soft handle gently laying on her back. It’s nurturing. Comforting. She looks up to find Lily’s green eyes staring back at her. They hold sadness of their own. Looking down at her as though she wants to save her from everything in this place. Maybe, even, from herself.

“I’m sorry Melony.” She says softly. “It wasn’t my place. You are right. If you say there’s nothing there, then there’s nothing there. I believe you.” 

Hermione holds back the tears that want to bubble up and gives her a sad smile. Hoping she conveys everything that she’s too afraid to speak at the moment. That it is okay. That she’s already forgiven. That she’s sorry too. 

They stare out at the lake for a few minutes in silence. Then Lily Speaks again. 

“I said I would let it go, and I am, I promise” she states empathetically. “But Melony, just remember to try not to be so quick to judge others around you. Especially someone like Harry. I know you think he would never understand what you’ve been through. And, maybe, you are right. But he may also be one of the only people who ever could. That boy has been through more in his life than most.” She says it sadly. 

A part of me is tempted to ask what she knows. What exactly it is that Harry has gone through. But the larger part of me is mulling over her words. 

He may also be one of the only people who ever could. 

How I longed for it to be true. But how I feared it, just the same. 

_______

Hermione lays awake in bed, Lily’s words circling her head in an endless loop. This wasn’t the first time someone had implied that Harry's past was one full of darkness. Full of pain. 

Hell, she knows he practically confirmed it, that early night at the Three Broomsticks. He had mentioned that he hadn’t always lived here in Hogsmeade. That everyone hadn’t always liked him. She knew from that conversation that he understood her aloofness in a way few people would. In a way only someone who had gone through similar things could understand. 

But understanding he had been through childhood abuse of his own did not change the fact that she was nowhere near ready to trust anyone else with her heart. It had seemed clear to Hermione that Harry was mistreated as he was growing up. Yet, the way Lily had talked about it today…. It made her wonder. 

What exactly was it that Harry Potter had gone through? It seemed much greater than just adolescent mistreatment. The way that Lily spoke about how everyone in town knew him reminded her of how you would talk about someone who was great. Someone like a hero. Could Harry be a hero to these people? 

If he was, it made Hermione feel even worse about telling him. Whatever Harry had gone through, however dark it had been, it was becoming abundantly clear that he had received the one thing she never had. Support. 

In the aftermath of his trauma, he was regarded as a good man. Someone who had been through so much and made it out alive. She, oppositely, was a runaway, who had to use a false identity in order to have any hope of not being run out of town. Their stories may have been similar, but their endings were certainly not. 

How could he ever understand what I had to do? How could he ever understand that the whole time I’ve been here I’ve lied about who I really am to him? 

Hermione pinched her eyes closed in shame. He couldn’t….. Could he? 

She hated to admit it, but the small ember of hope had begun to flicker into a tiny flame. She was beginning to wonder if maybe… Just maybe, he could understand. If maybe these people could understand. If maybe she didn’t have to try to keep running so far away. 

But mostly she was wondering about Harry. About who he really was. About what she did not know. She knew she had no place to question him, not with her own skeletons pushed deeply back within her tightly sealed wardrobe. But she longed to know. 

As sleep slowly descended upon her, a pair of startlingly green eyes flicked across her vision. And whispered “I’ll see you’s” serve as her lullaby.