Lost and Found

V

Hermione's Flight

Hermione did not know how long she and Buckbeak had been airborne. She would not dare unclench her white-knuckled fists from the hippogriff's feathers long enough to look at her watch.

At first she had tried closing her eyes. She had figured that if she could not see how high up they were and how small the buildings and people looked that it would not bother her as much. Rather like sleeping on the train, she had thought. She quickly learned, however, that it was not one of her more brilliant ideas. Buckbeak had flapped his wings shortly after she had shut her eyes and the sudden lurch, coupled with the disorientation of not being able to see, had almost unseated her.

After what seemed ages, Hermione finally thought they might be descending. A few minutes later she managed to stifle a scream as they nearly grazed a rooftop. Buckbeak then circled once before landing in a large garden. He bowed low again and Hermione gratefully slid off his back. She paused next to him with one hand on his side to steady herself and took some deep breaths. Buckbeak remained quietly where he was until she took a couple of steps away from him and then he stood and moved forward.

The instant Buckbeak started walking, Hermione saw the house appear between two others. Apparently the old Black house was still unplottable. As she gazed at the tall structure in front of her she realized they were at the back of the house. Walking towards it she thought Number Twelve Grimmauld Place looked shabbier than ever.

When they reached the back door Buckbeak pushed the doorbell with his beak and then politely stood aside so Hermione could stand at the door. She briefly wondered who had taught the hippogriff such good manners. She was pretty sure it had not been Harry.

The bell gonged throughout the house and had not quite finished when the door was flung open and Hermione saw...no one. She was puzzled until she looked down and was startled to see a beaming house elf standing on the threshold.

"Winky?" she asked in disbelief once recognition had set in.

If it was possible, Winky's smile grew. "Winky is very pleased to see Master's friend!"

Master? It was then that Hermione took in Winky's apparel. Gone were the clothes she had worn after her previous master had dismissed her. The house elf was once again clad in a tea towel and, for that matter, appeared to be sober.

"Come in, come in!"

The door opened wider and Hermione dazedly stepped into the kitchen followed by Buckbeak. As Winky was leading Hermione to the door that led upstairs, Hermione let her gaze wander around the spotless kitchen. There was a brief thought that Mrs. Weasley would have been proud and it was followed by the hope that Harry was at least paying Winky and not working her too hard.

"Master Harry Potter is awaiting his guest in the drawing room," stated Winky as they walked through the ground floor hallway. There were bare spots on the walls where all the old Black family portraits had once hung. Hermione glanced at the place where old Mrs. Black's portrait had been. Now, there was just a patch of wall that was slightly lighter from the wall around it and Hermione shuddered at the memory of the evil old witch's ghastly shrieking. As they reached the stairs, Hermione could not help thinking how gloomy the house seemed. The dirty gray walls and closed drapes that effectively blocked out the daylight did nothing to brighten the atmosphere.

On the first floor they stopped at the door to the drawing room and Winky paused. She nervously looked at Hermione. After what appeared to be a brief internal battle, Winky spoke. "Winky would like Master Harry Potter's friend to know that Winky is pleased she has come." Winky was now wringing her hands much as Hermione was known to do when distraught. "Master Harry Potter has been alone too long." Then with a small pop Winky disappeared.

It was Hermione's turn to feel anxious. She took a deep breath and, muttering to herself that it was only Harry after all, and she could do this, knocked on the door.

There was a moment of silence followed by a terse, "Come in."

After another deep breath, Hermione reached out, turned the handle and pushed open the door.

The gloom she had noticed in the hallway was nothing compared to that which filled the drawing room. Not only was the room engulfed in darkness but there was also a tense, angry feeling in the air. She noted that the room itself had not changed much since the days of the Order. The dingy furniture and heavy drapes and, even, the Black family tree tapestry were the same as she remembered.

Hermione's eyes were just beginning to adjust to the dim light, the result of a lone candle on a table next to the door, when they came to rest on Harry. She stifled a gasp as she took him in.

Harry was dressed simply in jeans, a black t-shirt, and trainers. His hair, while always messy and uncontrollable, now appeared to have forgotten what a comb was and there came an odor off of him that had Hermione involuntarily wrinkling her nose and wondering when he had last bathed. His face was thinner than she remembered and behind his glasses were the darkest circles under his eyes that she had ever seen on anyone. As for his eyes that had been so brilliantly green, the color seemed to have been leeched out of them and Hermione saw none of the life and spark she remembered but, rather, saw that they were filled with anger and pain and defiance as he stood in front of the tapestry glaring at her.

All of the words Hermione had rehearsed, her well-thought-out speeches, vanished like so much vapor as she stood quietly before this ghost that had once been her best friend.

It was Harry who broke the silence.

"So, Hermione," his tone was derisive and contemptuous and Hermione flinched in response. "I see you managed the flight."

This sneering comment brought Hermione out of her reverie. "Yes, I did. It was quite thoughtful of you to see to my transportation," she said sharply.

Something briefly glimmered in Harry's eyes as he looked at her appraisingly. She tilted her chin up at him defiantly and thought it was a bit like dealing with Malfoy in the old days.

"Well," said Harry, "then you won't mind the return trip." He sat down on an old settee that creaked under his weight. Leaning back, he thunked his feet on a table in front of him causing various small items including his wand and a pocket sneakoscope to jump and clatter noisily.

Stretching both arms wide and resting them on the back of the settee, Harry asked, "So, what was so damn important you had to see me?"

Hermione bristled. She was beginning to get more than slightly annoyed with Harry now. He had not even offered her a seat, apparently expecting her to just stand there throughout the interview, and he was gazing at her with an arrogance that again reminded her of Malfoy. She briefly wondered if she punched Harry if it would knock any more sense into him than it had when she had hit Malfoy. Probably not, she thought wryly.

Glaring at him, Hermione pulled out her wand and with a deft movement conjured up a cushiony armchair in which she proceeded to make herself comfortable before looking back at Harry. She was surprised to see him appear a bit discomfited at the sight of the chair.

Barging ahead while she still had the confidence, Hermione said, "Ron and I are getting married."

Harry's expression returned to one of contempt as he snorted. "It's about bloody time."

Hermione had a flashback to Fred making the same comment a few weeks ago. How different it had sounded.

"So that's what you had to see me about then? That's what was so urgent?" Harry scoffed at Hermione. "You could have just told me that in one of your interminably long letters and saved my hippogriff a trip."

Ron was right, Hermione thought. This is a stupid idea. "You know what, Harry?" Hermione stood and vanished her chair. "Ron was right. There's no point in talking to you. You've just become a bitter old man in a young man's body. It would seem Voldemort won after all." Harry looked shaken at this and opened his mouth to reply but Hermione was angry and cut him off. "I hope you live a nice long life locked up all alone in this dreary old house with no one but Winky and Buckbeak and Hedwig to talk to. And, needless to say, you should know how I feel about Winky's presence!"

Hermione had now built up a full head of steam and she continued to berate Harry. "You think you're the only person in the world who matters and that no one else is important and that everyone should just feel so bloody sorry for the great Harry Potter. Well, I've got news for you." Hermione had not realized she had stepped forward until she was right in front of him and was pointing a finger directly in his face.

"No one really thinks about you anymore. No one except the people who've always loved you and tried to stand beside you no matter what was happening. Everyone else has gone on with the business of living while you just sit here day after day feeling sorry for yourself!"

Spinning on her heel, she stalked towards the door. She had her hand on the handle when there was a sigh behind her.

"Hermione." It was said quietly and with almost a tired pleading.

She paused but did not turn around.

"What did you want to talk about?"

Turning her head a little she said, "Ron and I wanted to ask you for a favor."

"Then why isn't Ron here, too?"

"He was sure you'd say no," Hermione admitted truthfully. Then she added, "And I think he's a little afraid of you." Looking back at Harry she saw the faintest shred of surprise.

"Why would he be afraid of me?"

Because you were so angry and you haven't written for over two years and he doesn't know the person you might have become." Hermione finally turned completely away from the door to again face Harry. "And besides," she added, "Buckbeak wouldn't have allowed it anyway."

At this Harry actually smiled and somewhere, deep in the pit of her stomach, Hermione felt the knot of apprehension that had been there since Hedwig had soared into the kitchen at the Burrow, begin to loosen.

Harry took his feet off the table and leaned forward. "Sit down, Hermione," he said. "Tell me what you want."

Slowly, Hermione walked to the center of the room and perched carefully on the edge of a chair that had definitely seen better days.

"So," said Harry once Hermione had sat down, "you and Ron are getting married."

"Yes." Hermione smiled. She couldn't help herself. She smiled every time she thought about marrying Ron.

"I'm happy for you," said Harry. "Honestly. I never knew two people who were more meant for each other."

Hermione thought she saw a flicker of sadness in Harry's eyes as he said this. She suspected he might be thinking about Luna but all she said was, "Thank you."

"Now," started Harry, seeming to shake himself together. "How can I help you?" He held up a hand before Hermione could answer. "And before you ask, I'm not coming to the wedding. I don't leave Grimmauld Place."

"Actually, we weren't going to ask you," Hermione replied, blushing in embarrassment at admitting to him that he was not invited. After all, they had known he would not come.

"You weren't?" asked Harry, startled.

"Er, no."

"What then?

"Well, we wanted to know if we could come live here for a while?" The knot in Hermione's stomach tightened again as she watched Harry's eyes narrow at the request.

"You want to live here?" Harry asked in disbelief. When Hermione nodded, he shook his head. "Why?"

"Well, I mean, we're just starting out together and we'd like to save some money," lied Hermione, "so we can get a decent place and well we, er, wondered if you would help us out?"

Harry looked astonished. He did not respond for a very long moment during which he ran a hand through his hair and looked around the room. Finally, looking back at Hermione, he asked, "Why can't you live at the Burrow and save money?"

"Well we, uh, are already living at the Burrow," Hermione responded in a small voice.

"So why do you want to come here? Hermione, I don't understand."

"Harry, do you remember how crowded it used to get at the Burrow when we would visit there in the summers? Particularly when we were there just before the Quidditch World Cup?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, it's that crowded now and more. Only it hasn't just been a temporary situation and it's been difficult for Ron and me. Ron gave up his room for Girard and he's been sleeping on the sofa and they're going to need room for this new baby and..." Hermione's voice trailed away and she looked at Harry rather desperately. She loved the Weasleys, each and every one of them, but she was tired of never being really alone with Ron. On the rare occasions they seemed to be alone it was always in the back of her mind that a Weasley could be just around the corner. Living with Harry had seemed a brilliant idea not only because they might help Harry but also because there would be more Ron-and-Hermione time.

There was another pause, as Harry seemed to be having a mental argument with himself. When he spoke he asked, "Who's Girard and why is he in Ron's room?"

Hermione smiled. "Bill and Fleur's son. And they're expecting another."

"That's the other baby you spoke of?" It seemed to be a struggle, but Harry's curiosity was clearly getting the better of him.

"No, Fred and Angelina's son. He's not quite a week old and they haven't named him yet. They were discussing 'Rupert' when Buckbeak arrived."

Harry made a face. "Rupert?"

Chuckling, Hermione said, "Yeah. That was Ron's reaction."

Harry sighed. "I don't know, Hermione. I've been alone for two years and I'm really not fit to live with." After a moment he added, "Besides, I think it's better if I'm alone."

"Do you?" she asked. "Do you really? Because you don't look like it suits you."

"I'm used to it," Harry said curtly. "And no matter what you think I still don't have any intention of leaving Grimmauld Place ever again."

"It's just Ron and me, Harry."

"But you'll bring the outside world with you," Harry replied rather desperately.

"Not if you don't want us to," Hermione reassured.

Harry frowned. "Yes, you will. You'll talk about your jobs and family and friends. That's what I mean by the outside world and I don't want it here."

"Then we won't talk about those things around you." Hermione had felt she was starting to get somewhere and while she did not want to push so hard that Harry would send her away with a firm and resounding "NO," neither did she want to back down now.

"I don't know. I just don't know, Hermione."

Hermione sat quietly; waiting with her breath held.

Harry got up and walked over to the wall where the tapestry hung slightly askew. He looked at it long and hard and ran a hand through his hair again. When he spoke it was not to Hermione.

"Winky!" he yelled, causing Hermione to jump.

There was a pop and Winky appeared in the middle of the drawing room. "Yes, Master?" she asked.

"Get Buckbeak back outside. My guest will be leaving shortly."

Hermione's heart sank. Now she was just his guest. Harry turned to look at her and she did not bother to try and hide her disappointment.

"I can't give you an answer right now, Hermione. I'll have to think about it."

He was going to think about it! Hermione felt a surge of hope run through her but she managed to contain it for fear that if Harry saw it he might decide now and decide against her request.

"Thank you, Harry," she said. She wanted to hug him and took a step forward but she saw Harry stiffen and take a step back so she merely said thank you again and quietly left the room.

In the hallway she met Winky who led her down the stairs. Winky was again beaming at Hermione. At the door Buckbeak bowed and Hermione climbed up on his back. After another frightening running start they leapt up into the sky.

Bravely, Hermione risked a glance back toward Grimmauld Place. If she did not know any better she would have sworn she saw Harry peering out an upstairs window at her with a pensive look on his face.