Curse in Reverse

"Ron?"

Hermione knocked on Ron's front door. He lived in a small flat in London with his girlfriend, Charlotte. A worn Chudley Cannons doormat adorned the hallway under Hermione's feet and a wreath hung on the door. Hermione smiled slightly as she remembered how passionately Ron had pleaded his case to Charlotte about the doormat. It was charmed to look like a football team to Muggles, of course. West Ham, in honor of Ron's old classmate, Dean.

The door opened suddenly, causing Hermione to jump, and Ron stood there grinning broadly.

"Hermione! Come in, come in!" he pulled her into the cozy interior. Charlotte must be a saint, Hermione thought for the hundredth time. Picking up after Ron was a full time job in and of itself, but the flat was spotless.

"So, how did it go?" Ron was asking as he steered Hermione towards a comfortably worn armchair. "Hold on, I'll get you some juice."

Hermione smiled gratefully as she sank into the chair. There was also a couch and telly, an oriental carpet underfoot and several wizarding paintings on the wall. Ron disappeared through a doorway in the back into a small kitchen.

"Charlotte!" Hermione heard Ron call. "Hermione's here!"

"Oh, drat," a woman's voice was heard from the bedroom down the hall. "You always catch me naked, Hermione! I swear you do it on purpose!"

A blush suffused Hermione's face as Ron bounded back into the room with a glass of orange juice and a butterbeer.

"Don't say it," Hermione said menacingly, spying the expression on Ron's face. "Don't even THINK it!"

"Think what?" Ron asked innocently. "So, tell me about it. Was he there?"

Hermione shook her head and sighed. Ron didn't look surprised; still, every time there was always that little bit of hope.

"No... but there was a guy there who looked just like him. His name was Ernie."

"Closer than usual, I suppose. Buck up, Hermione, he can't hide from us forever!" Ron said bracingly. Hermione nodded and buried her face in the orange juice.

"Hi there, Hermione," a red-haired woman said cheerfully, walking into the room while still toweling her hair. She was short and slightly plump with a pleasant, smiling face and short, wavy hair. A bathrobe hung loosely around her figure.

"Hi, Charlotte," Hermione smiled. "How are you? Did you have a good time today?"

"Oh, it was wonderful! Sometimes I wonder why I keep Ron around, and then he goes and does something like today and I decide to keep him for a little longer."

Charlotte grinned and winked at Hermione as Ron roared in mock outrage. Hermione giggled.

"Oh, hush, darling," Charlotte shed the towel and dropped into Ron's lap. "You know you like it."

"Maybe..."

"You can't fool me, mister," Charlotte declared, poking Ron in the chest for emphasis. "So, Hermione, how was your day?"

"Oh... it was ok..."

"Ah... one of those days, huh?"

Hermione nodded glumly and they sat in silence for a minute, Hermione and Ron finishing their drinks while Charlotte hummed and ran her fingers through Ron's hair.

"Well, it wasn't quite normal," Hermione said finally.

"Oh?"

"Yeah... I met this guy-"

"What's that?" Ron snapped to attention, ears tinged red. "Do tell. Do I have to thrash him?"

"Ron!" Charlotte smacked him. "Hermione's a grown woman! She can take care of herself. Now, dear," Charlotte turned to Hermione, "tell me all about him. Don't you worry, I'll make sure he's right for you."

"No, it's not like that," Hermione protested bemusedly. "Really! Can't I even talk to a man without you two assuming I want to jump him?"

Ron and Charlotte exchanged a glance.

"Honey," Charlotte said slowly and clearly. "It's been nearly five years since you've had a date. If you don't want to jump every man you see you should be in a nunnery."

"Yeah, what she said," Ron added helpfully.

"Shut up, Ron," Hermione and Charlotte said together. He clamped his lips together and slouched back, sulking.

"So, tell me all about him," Charlotte commanded.

"Okay... but it really wasn't like that," Hermione reiterated. "It was right after I caught up with Harry's look-alike and found out he- well, wasn't Harry. I turned around, and saw this little boy running towards a tall, thin guy with white hair..."

Hermione explained what had happened as Charlotte and Ron listened intently, interrupting every so often to ask for clarification.

"And then he started to play," Hermione was saying. "And it was amazing! I've never heard anything like it. It's like he was there, Ron, with us and Harry and turned everything that happened into a song!"

"What?" Ron asked, confused.

"Oh, you just had to be there to understand!" Hermione cried impatiently. "It was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard! People were literally throwing money at him! But he gave almost all of it away to the poor."

"Oh... how sweet- that little boy, and then-" Charlotte said, a catch in her voice. "And why was it again that you didn't jump him?"

"Charlotte!"

Ron and Hermione had shouted it at the same time, though for different reasons.

"He was just so- sad. I don't know how else to say it," Hermione mused. "Like something terrible happened to him."

"You said he knew who you were?" Ron asked thoughtfully.

"Yeah. He saw me running after that other guy, and must have put two and two together," Hermione explained.

"I don't like it," Ron muttered. "Who knows what kind of lunatic he might be?"

"Oh, Ron!" Charlotte cried in exasperation. "Hermione's famous! You're famous! People recognize both of you all the time!"

"Yeah," Hermione murmured, deep in thought. "He said that too."

"You didn't tell us his name," Charlotte said suddenly.

"Oh!" Hermione blinked. "I guess I didn't. His name- his name is Nobody."

"What?" Ron laughed. "You're having us on!"

"No, I swear!" Hermione defended herself. "That's his name! Honestly! That's how he introduced himself, anyway."

"What kind of a name is that?" Ron demanded.

"Oh, come on, Ron," Charlotte butted in. "Your uncle's name, which also happens to be your middle name, is Bilius! 'Nobody' is positively normal in comparison."

"You just had to bring that up, didn't you?" Ron muttered, flushing. "Ok, fine. You win. His parents must have had a poor sense of humor. But not as bad as my parents."

"Be quiet, darling. The big kids are talking now. So, did you get his owl stop?" Charlotte demanded, focusing back on Hermione.

"What?" Hermione jerked back to the present. "Oh... no. No, I didn't."

"But he told me he's playing again on Tuesday," she hastened to add, seeing the disappointed look on Charlotte's face.

"Oh, good!" Charlotte clapped her hands together delightedly. Then her face fell.

"Oh, but we can't go, honey. You'll have to go, of course. Obviously, he was interested in you if he told you that..."

"Oh, I don't know..." Hermione prevaricated.

"But you just have to! Do you have to work that night?" Charlotte asked.

"Well, no, but-"

"No buts!" Charlotte sang out triumphantly. "You're going, and that's final!"

"Can I talk now?" Ron asked sourly.

"No," both the girls said simultaneously. Ron scowled and got up, dumping his indignant girlfriend onto the floor.

"I'll just go clean up then," he said to no one in particular, picked up Hermione's empty glass, and stomped towards the kitchen.

"Wait!" Hermione called, jumping up. Ron turned and raised an eyebrow.

"Thank you," Hermione said, rushing forward to hug him tightly. "I know you're just a grumpy old bear because you care. Don't worry, I'll be ok."

"I know," Ron said, his expression softening as he hugged Hermione back carefully, glass and butterbeer bottle held out awkwardly. "I just- well, it's not always a nice world out there. Old habits, you know? From when there really were people out there looking to do us in."

"It's okay now," Hermione said quietly. "Harry saw to that..."

Nobody wanted to say anything to that, so they stood awkwardly silent for a minute.

"Well, I think I should go now," Hermione said finally.

"Yeah, I've got this appointment with Ron," Charlotte said.

"In the bedroom," she added meaningfully. Ron grinned and Hermione coughed self-consciously.

"Right," Hermione said as she backed quickly towards the door. "I'll just let myself out..."

"You won't be needing those," Charlotte was saying, plucking the glass and bottle out of Ron's hand and tossing them on the couch. "Now, march!"

Hermione opened the door quietly and stepped outside. But as she closed it a hand snaked around to hold it open.

"I want to hear all about it!" Charlotte whispered fiercely. "Don't let me down! How are we supposed to compare stories if you're not-"

"I'll let you know," Hermione broke in desperately. "I gotta go now, bye!"

The old healer plucked the knotgrass out of Hermione's hand and extinguished the fire under the cauldron.

"Wha-?" Hermione started.

"What's on your mind, dear?" the healer asked kindly. "You've been distracted all day."

Hermione's cheeks burned at the gentle reprimand. It was not an event that happened often, and never since she had started training as a healer. It was a very responsible task; lives could depend on her being on top of her game.

"I'm sorry, Healer Wythe! It won't happen again, I promise!"

The old healer smiled and led Hermione over to a bench.

"It's a man, isn't it?" she asked as soon as they were seated.

"What?" Hermione blurted, half-rising. "No! I mean- not really."

Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth, mortified. Healer Wythe merely nodded sagely and smoothed back her long gray hair.

"I'm not that old, dear. I still remember how it was. And my husband still has his moments," she whispered with a wink.

"Why does everyone always assume everything I say or do is about a man?" Hermione complained. "It's not like that's all there is to life!"

"Come on," Healer Wythe pulled Hermione up, checking the clock. "It's just about time for our break. Let's round up the girls and get something to eat."

"That would be nice," Hermione murmured, rubbing her stomach. "And it gets us off this subject," she added under her breath.

"And you haven't been on a date since you started here," Wythe added, causing Hermione to groan. "So it is always about men."

"Brenda, we're going over to the Starlit Café for lunch!" Wythe called as they passed a middle-aged blonde nurse.

"Right you are," Brenda said complacently, falling in step with them.

"Hermione's going to tell us about her new man."

"Smashing."

Hermione felt an almost uncontrollable urge to scream, but settled instead on a dignified silence.

Hermione, Wythe, and Brenda were joined by Megan, Titania, and Anne by the time they made it to the café. The three newcomers were all Hermione's age, and rather giggly.

"So, tell us about him, Hermione!" Megan demanded.

"I think the French onion soup looks lovely," Hermione said determinedly. "And perhaps a salad."

"Is he handsome?" Titania asked.

"Rich?" Anne jumped in.

Hermione slammed down her menu and glared around.

"Listen, there is no man! I never said anything about a man! I was just spacing out a little while I was making a Blood Replenishing Potion, and Healer Wythe made a completely unwarranted-"

"Ooooh, but you never space out, Hermione," Titania interrupted.

"Yes," Brenda weighed in with her professional opinion. "I've never seen you perform at less than one hundred percent. I was beginning to think you weren't human."

"Yes, well, I'm human, okay?" Hermione snapped. "Even I get distracted sometimes, and it doesn't mean-"

"He must really be something," Anne whispered to Megan. "If he can make Hermione all flustered..."

Hermione looked around wildly, from Wythe's smirk to the expectant faces of the three younger Healers to Brenda's motherly visage.

"You do like guys, right?" Titania pressed.

"Yes, of course I do!" Hermione threw her hands in the air. Titania made soothing motions.

"Just checking," she murmured.

"Ok, fine," Hermione burst out. "So I ran into a guy on Saturday-"

Megan, Anne and Titania let out squeals of glee, but Hermione was distracted as Wythe held out her hand and Brenda glumly handed over several sickles.

"Hey, what was that for?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

"Nothing, dear," Wythe assured her. "I picked up Brenda's tab last time, is all. Do go on."

Hermione peered distrustfully at their too innocent expressions, and decided to ignore the whole thing.

"Yeah, um. I was looking into a rumor about Harry- You know, Harry Potter? Yes, that Harry."

"You're going out with Harry Potter?" Megan gasped.

"Of course not!" Hermione got her voice under control with difficulty and resisted the impulse to call Megan an airhead. "Nobody knows where he is! That's the whole point of trying to find him, see?"

"Oh... yeah..." Megan said sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Anyway," Hermione cleared her throat. "It was just someone who looked like Harry. As I was about to leave, I saw this little boy running towards a-"

Hermione related the tale for what felt like the twentieth time, even though it was only the second.

"And I just met him, and even if I was in any way interested in him, he'd hardly be 'my man'!" she finished emphatically.

"Oooooh, a musician!" squeaked Megan.

"So when are you going to see him again?" Wythe asked shrewdly.

"Listen, he's not interested in me, nor I in him!" Hermione cried. "We just met briefly! And he would barely even look me in the eyes!"

Brenda nodded wisely and whispered something to Wythe behind her hand.

"Oh, but that's a good sign!" Titania said immediately. "Did you get his owl stop?"

Hermione shook her head.

"When are you going to see him again?" Wythe repeated. Hermione bit her lip.

"He- he told me he was playing again. Tonight."

There was an immediate uproar as all five of Hermione's companions tried to talk at once, offering advice and encouragement.

"Oh, I've got the perfect perfume for you, Hermione!" Anne cried.

"And we'll help you with makeup too," Titania added. "Do you have any? I've never seen you wear it. Well, no matter, we have plenty..."

Hermione groaned and covered her face with her hands.

"No," Brenda's even voice cut through cleanly. "Hermione doesn't need makeup. She's already got perfect skin. She looks beautiful naturally. She just needs to smile."

"I agree," Wythe said as the others gushed. "I'll cast a Cheering Charm before you leave tonight."

Hermione just stared at them all between her fingers, eyes wide.

"But, I don't want-"

"Nonsense," Wythe interrupted briskly. "You just listen to us, dear. We know what's best for you."

What is wrong with these people? Hermione thought, then more plaintively: Why did these things always happen to me? She looked around quickly for an exit. But seeing that she was surrounded, Hermione gave up and began to laugh weakly.

Five hours later Hermione found herself standing nervously outside the Three Broomsticks. She had been unable to fend off her co-workers attempts to dress her and do her hair, but the line had been drawn at the Cheering Charm. It always worked like a Babbling Beverage on her, and that was the last thing she needed.

She compulsively checked her watch, it was nearly six-thirty, and smoothed the front of her dress. Her tormentors had finally settled on a light, casual summer dress of periwinkle blue. The white, heeled sandals were unfamiliar and slightly uncomfortable, which added to her fidgeting. She reached up once and patted her hair gingerly, part of which had been apparently carelessly coiled around the top of her head to join together in the back, strands escaping her and there to fall appealingly down the side of her neck. Altogether, she felt completely ridiculous and failed to notice the admiring looks she was drawing from passing young wizards.

Nobody hadn't shown up yet, and, come to think of it, he had never said exactly what time he would be there. He had said Tuesday, right? This Tuesday? Hermione checked her watch again and absently began chewing on a lock of hair.

He wasn't going to show up. He was just having her on. Why should he have cared whether her saw her again? She hadn't exactly been either interesting or composed last time. She had been like a silly little fan girl, she thought, flushing.

"This is foolish," she muttered to herself. "I should just go. He's not going to show up. Five minutes. I'll wait five more min- ahh!"

"Er- hi?" a voice said softly right behind Hermione, causing her to jump two feet into the air.

Harry stood watching Hermione, hidden under his Invisibility Cloak. He was arguing silently with himself.

What was I thinking? Why did I tell her I'd be here again? It's too risky. She'll recognize me this time. She looks ready to chew nails. Did she already figure it out? Why is she dressed like that, anyway? Did she come straight from some sort of event?

He knew he should leave. Just turn around and go back. What did it matter if he had told Hermione he'd be here? Why should a lie mean bother him now, after all that had happened? She would be disgusted by him anyway, after she found out everything he'd done. It was for the best that she never saw him again. That no one did.

Harry nodded decisively, whipped the cloak off and stepped out towards Hermione. Wait, that wasn't the plan! But he couldn't help himself: Hermione was like a glimmer of light after being locked in the darkness for years.

He stopped not three feet behind her; she hadn't noticed his approach and stood fidgeting impatiently.

"Er- hi?" he said tentatively. Hermione jumped straight up with a little shriek, spun in midair, and landed facing him.

"Nobody!" she gasped. "I- uh- I'm sorry! You startled me!"

"Sorry about that," Harry apologized. "I didn't mean to sneak up behind you."

"It's okay," Hermione said hastily. "Er-"

A long moment passed awkwardly, each looking at the other, then down, then back again. Harry was speechless momentarily, memories and emotions crowding his mind. Seeing her brought back memories of what it had been like to have a life worth living, when he'd been able to joke and laugh and play Quidditch. The sight of her, and everything she represented, was intoxicating.

"I'm, um, glad you could make it," he said softly. "So, what's the occasion?"

"What?" Hermione asked blankly. Harry motioned vaguely at her; it took a moment for Hermione to realize he meant her outfit, and Harry was puzzled when she suddenly blushed.

"It's, um... my co-workers, they- oh, Merlin, I feel so stupid..." Hermione babbled. "You see, what I mean is-"

"Are you okay?" Harry asked in concern.

Oh my god, Hermione panicked. What am I saying? Words were coming out of her mouth, and she didn't seem to have any control over them. Had Wythe managed to cast a Cheering Charm on her when she wasn't looking? Why on earth was she so nervous? It wasn't like she was interested in this man. Well, not really. She had much more important things to do. Like looking for Harry.

"Are you okay?" Nobody was regarding her with concern.

"Yes, I'm fine!" she replied hurriedly, though she couldn't help but noticing the profound sadness and bleakness returning to his eyes again. For a moment, as he stood there staring at her, it had lifted. For just a very brief moment, and he had looked like and entirely different person. But it was gone, too fleeting for Hermione to make anything of.

"Just, um, had a long day at work. I'm a little scattered, that's all."

"Okay..." Nobody said dubiously. Hermione's stomach lurched slightly.

Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit! I AM interested in him! Evidently, this is what happens when you don't date anybody for five years. I have no idea what I'm doing!

"Are you going to play?" she asked in a rather higher voice than usual.

"Yeah. Yeah," Harry repeated. "I'll just go set up. Okay?"

Hermione nodded wordlessly.

It was almost exactly the same as the last time. Nobody pulled his instruments out of thin air and warmed up briefly as a crowd materialized. Again, Hermione lost all track of time or thought as he played. And again, coins were showered upon him, most of which he gave away.

"That- that was even better than last time," Hermione croaked when it was done. "How do you do it?"

Nobody shrugged.

"I just play."

"You- just play?" Hermione repeated weakly. "Merlin, what I'd give to be able to do what you can do..."

"It's nothing," Nobody denied. "You could do it. You're far cleverer than me. You're Hermione Granger!"

Hermione felt a warm glow suffuse her at his words, but protested out loud.

"That's not true! I can't- well. Um, do you want to get a drink?" She motioned helplessly at the Three Broomsticks. Nobody looked at her expressionlessly for a long minute and Hermione thought she would die from nerves.

"It would be my pleasure," he said finally with a small bow that hid his features, leaving Hermione to puzzle over his choice of words as he held the door open for her.

"So, what do you do?" Harry asked as soon as they were ensconced at a small, unnoticed table in the back, butterbeers in hand.

"Excuse me?"

"For a living?" he explained.

"Oh, that," Hermione colored. "I'm a Healer. I mean, a Healer-in-Training. I should earn full honors within the next year. Fastest ever," she couldn't help adding proudly.

"Of course," Harry almost smiled for the first time in five years.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked quickly.

"Well, you're supposed to be the cleverest witch to go to Hogwarts in ages," Harry extemporized quickly.

"Oh. Thanks!"

"No problem," Harry said, feeling uncomfortable. It was getting harder to keep from slipping. "I should go."

He rose abruptly.

"But we just sat down! Am I boring you?" Hermione asked immediately, a stricken expression on her face.

"No, not at all," Harry replied at once. "Not at all. I just- shouldn't be wasting your time."

"You're not!" Hermione said earnestly, taking his hand impulsively and pulling him back down to his seat.

"Well, if you're sure," Harry said uncertainly. He settled down on the chair and attempted to reclaim his hand, but found that Hermione had it held tight and was looking at him with the most startled expression. She kept running a finger over the back of his hand, like she was tracing something.

"Hermione-?"

She didn't respond. Instead, she pulled his hand nearer and bent close over it, almost so close that her nose was touching it. A sudden chill ran down Harry's spine as he realized which hand she was looking at.

"Oh, shit," slipped out of his mouth before he could help himself. Hermione was mouthing something incredulously.

I must not tell lies.

Time seemed to stretch as Hermione let go of his hand and looked up, infinitely slowly. Shock and comprehension was filling her eyes. Harry tried to look away, but couldn't.

"Oh my God," Hermione was repeating over and over, in a daze. "Oh my God, oh my God."

Harry said nothing.

"Finite Incantantem," Hermione muttered, pulling out her wand and looking straight into Harry's blue eyes. He felt the magic brush him, but it wasn't strong enough to dislodge his glamour. An all too familiar look passed across Hermione's face and her brow furrowed. Without warning, she lunged forward and kissed him full on the lips.

"Hermione, wha- mmmphh!"

Just as suddenly she pulled back and yelled, "Finite Incantantem!"

This time, Harry's attention was distracted and his glamour snapped. Hermione half stood, mouth hanging open as her brown eyes fixed on Harry's now green eyes.