Desperate to Believe: The Park Bench

The Park Bench

By: Kinoryo

Hermione walked silently down the red brick sidewalk. The air was alive with the smells of autumn. Leaves of all sorts of colors fell silently like feathers from the trees around her. She tugged her coat tighter around her as a gust of wind whipped her long, wavy hair into frenzy. Clouds of gray clustered overhead threateningly.

Hermione marched past the bookstore, past the pizza parlor, eyes on the heavens. Her feet were doing the walking, though her subconscious knew exactly where her feet where taking her. Sure enough, there she was.

She was standing in the middle of a park. Children's laughter from beyond the trees echoed hollowly in her head. She sat down on the park bench. It was old and the white paint chipped easily, but oh, how she loved it anyway.

~~~~~

Harry and Hermione were leaning up against each other on a park bench. It was a cold, fall day in the middle of November. Harry's arm was wrapped snugly around her shoulders. She felt so warm, so loved.

"'Mione?"

Hermione looked up at him. Those eyes. They were so beautiful. The pure emerald of them, the way she felt they could see into her soul, and the love she always found in them made her want look into them forever. She didn't get to stare in them for long, however.

Harry stood up and began rummaging for something in his coat pocket. He turned and stepped in front of her. Tears sprang to her eyes as he slowly got down on one knee in front of her. Gently, he took her hand. She knew what was happening and began weeping out of joy.

"Hermione, we've been dating for about two years now. I have never really been certain of anything in my life, but I am certain about this."

He shifted as Hermione began to cry harder, a smile on her face.

"I love you. I need you. I love you so much that I would be more than willing to give up my life if I knew it'd keep you safe. I also know that if I don't..."

He took out the small box and extracted a ring. It was beautiful but that was the last thing on her mind. He lifted her hand and slid it on her ring finger.

"Make you my wife, I won't be able to live another day. So, I ask you, my dear friend, will you marry me?"

Hermione slipped off the bench and flung her arms around his neck.

"Yes! Oh, I love you, Harry!"

~~~~~

Hermione was on her feet again. Her eyes were closed against the wind as she walked down the side of the road. She'd been living here for about seven years now, so she knew it well.

Even with her eyes closed, she could still see his face. Smiling at her. And those eyes. Those soul-wrenching eyes. They were so beautiful.

~~~~~

"Hermione,"

"Yes, Sirius?"

"It's about Harry..."

~~~~~

Hermione opened her eyes. No matter how hard she tried to suppress it, a chill ran up and down her spine as she realized where she was. The cemetery.

~~~~~

"Nooooooooo!"

Hermione's voice screamed out in agony. Already she could feel the tears coming. Sirius rushed up to her side to try and calm her down, but it was useless.

"It can't be! It's not true!"

Sirius put his arms around her to try and give her some comfort, but Hermione was not going to be comforted. She beat her fist wildly at his chest.

"Where is he, Sirius?! Where is he!?! Where-where-where..."

Her voice trailed off as she collapsed against his chest. Sirius squeezed her tight to him. Her sobs came in long, loud gasps.

"I'll never let him go, Sirius! I'll never let him go."

~~~~~

Hermione was walking fast. Her feet thudded against the stone pathway that weaved in and out of the graves. Here eyes darted over the names engraved in the tombstones. She came to a sudden stop. There it was, just where it had been for the last three years.

~~~~~

Hermione walked through the door, closing it with a snap behind her. Her eyes were already puffy from crying the whole ride home. She tossed the keys onto the table and walked slowly into the living room. She tried to fall on the couch but missed entirely, collapsing in a sobbing heap on the floor.

"Mommy?"

Hermione's head snapped up. Adrian Potter, her six-year-old daughter, stood in her purple pajamas, rubbing her eyes wearily. Hermione crawled over to her and wrapped her arms around her precious child, holding her tight.

"Mommy, what's wrong?"

Hermione continued crying, rocking slowly back and forth. "Just wait until Daddy comes home. He'll make everything ok again."

Hermione stopped her crying and rocking. She pulled away to look at her child. She was small with long, unruly, wavy brown hair and green eyes. His green eyes.

"Honey, Daddy's not coming home..."

~~~~~

Hermione was on her knees. The grass was soft. A single rose was propped up against the tombstone where she'd laid it. The tombstone. She despised it even more than anything else in the world.

Here Lies Harry Potter

The Boy Who Lived

She hated that inscription. He had never liked being "the boy who lived" and she didn't think it described him at all. What about him being a loving husband? What about being their daughter's cherished father? No, they put "The Boy Who Lived" when clearly he had died.

Hermione buried her face in her hands. "How could you leave me, Harry!?!"

She wrapped her arms around his tombstone. The stone was freezing against her skin. A tear slipped silently down her cheek.

"I didn't even get to say goodbye..."

_-_-_-_-_

Hermione was sitting on the park bench again. It brought her such a sense of peace and yet such sadness. It had been three years since he'd disappeared.

"Mom?"

Hermione looked up. Adrian was smiling broadly. She looked beautiful. She always had. Her hair was pulled into two braids and her eyes stood out lividly. She'd be turning ten next month.

"Yes, sweetie?"

"I'm going to the jungle-gym."

Hermione nodded and she dashed away. Hermione was sitting there in silence. She was about to get up when someone clasped their hands over her eyes. They were obviously male and very familiar.

"Ron, I don't feel like playing games."

She reached up and grabbed the hands at her eyes, but froze. She felt something there that told her it couldn't be Ron. These hands had a ring on the wedding finger, and Ron was most certainly still single. She turned slowly.

At first she thought she was hallucinating.

It was Harry. At least, it looked like Harry. For a moment she thought she was dreaming. Then she thought she had died and had entered the afterlife. After pinching herself to reassure she was still living, she decided that this was some kind of a joke. Hermione jumped to her feet and rounded on the man. Anger surged through her entire body. "Who the hell are you?"

She asked him, trying to suppress her rage. The man stood. He walked around the park bench to her.

"Did Ron send you? What kind of joke is this!?"

"It is me, 'Mione. Harry."

I must be going crazy! She thought to herself. She shook her head vigorously, sending tears she hadn't known she'd been crying flying.

"You bastard! What are you trying to do to me?!"

She shoved him in the chest and took a few steps backward. "Hermione, you have to believe that it's me."

"What kind of sick bastard are you? Harry's dead!!! His grave is three blocks down if you want to check it out!"

"I'm not dead, 'Mione."

Hermione couldn't bear to look at him anymore.

"I can't believe someone would go to such lengths to torture me. And on our anniversary of all days."

A pair of warm, gentle hands placed themselves on either side of her face, forcing her to look up. It was his eyes. Harry's eyes. The same soul-wrenching eyes she had seen every time she'd closed her eyes for the last three years.

"I would never wish to torture you. I love you. I am Harry Potter, Hermione."

Hermione, unable to support herself anymore, sat down on the bench.

"You can't be-you can't-you can't..."

He sat down next to her. She turned to him.

"Prove it. Show me that you are who you say you are." Without saying a word, he slipped down on one knee in front of her. Gently, he lifted her hands and slipped her ring off her right finger and placed it on her left ring finger. He looked up into her eyes. Hermione thought she was going to cry some more.

"I have never really been certain of anything in my life, but I am certain about this. I love you. I need you. I love you so much that I would be more than willing to give up my life if I knew it'd keep you safe. And you're not a widow anymore."

Hermione jumped to her feet and turned her back to him, so he wouldn't see her crying.

"God!"

She wiped at her eyes hastily. She rounded on him. He was on his feet, now.

"If you are who you say you are then where the hell have you been!?"

She couldn't help shouting. She'd been so miserable, and if you think explaining to you six year old daughter that her daddy is never coming back is easy, she'd hex you into next Tuesday. Harry looked down at the ground.

"Well!? Were you kidnapped or what?! Why did you leave me, Harry."

She said the last part with great reluctance.

"I left, Hermione."

"You what? Why?! How could you do that to me?! How could you do that to Adrian?!"

He looked up at her, determination etched in his face.

"You knew about my job with the secret service, you knew of our mission to defeat Voldermort! What would have been the best way for my enemies to get at me? By hurting or killing someone I loved! When I proposed I promised I'd give my life to keep you safe, and that's exactly what I did! Do you think it was easy to leave you?! I've been dying a little every day that I wasn't near you, Hermione! It was bloody hell!"

"I'm perfectly capable of defending my own, you know that!" "But Adrian isn't! Don't you see? You wouldn't be able to protect yourself and her at the same time, and I know you'd give yourself to keep her safe. I couldn't stand by and let that happen!"

Hermione sniffed, though she knew he was right. Her arms hung limply at her sides.

"Don't you see that I did it out of my love for the two of you?"

His tone was soft and desperate. Hermione's heart was breaking, torn between her sensible side that said Harry was dead, and the side that was so desperate to believe. "Harry."

Hermione said the name in a whisper, testing to see what it felt like to feel it escape her lips. It felt just like she remembered.

"You're real?"

Harry nodded and shifted uncomfortably.

"Sirius knew?"

"Yes."

"Ron?"

"No."

She walked up to him and looked him straight in the eyes.

He had the same determined look on his face. He looked down at her with those eyes. She saw the same look of love in them that she hadn't seen for so long.

"You don't know... I missed you so much! You have no idea..."

He softened. She looked down at the ground.

"I missed you, too, but it's over now. He's gone for good." He cupped her chin and forced her to look at him.

"I'll never leave you again."

Hermione reached up, her hand hesitating, and touched her hand to his face. He looked deep in her eyes and she found herself believing. Something in his eyes just told her that it was true and that everything would be all right.

"I don't deserve this. I swore I'd never let you go." Harry's face was close to hers and she could feel his hot breath in her ear as he replied.

"Did you?"

Hermione thought for a minute.

"No."

"Then it is I who doesn't deserve you."

"But Ha-"

Her protest was muffled when his lips lowered to press

themselves against hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck. How long she had longed, wished, and despaired for this. Now it was here and it was real. She kissed him with all the passion that she'd missed out on for the last three years.

"Mom!?"

They broke apart. Hermione looked at her daughter. She was standing there, staring in shock and horror at Harry. Harry was staring at her, too. Hermione detached herself from Harry.

"My God. You've gotten so big. You look so pretty."

Adrian took a step back and looked at Hermione, as if asking if what she was seeing was real. Hermione smiled. "D-daddy?!"

"Yeah, pumpkin, it's me."

Adrian didn't need anymore convincing. She ran to her father's arms. He held her tightly to him. Now, he was crying. Hermione sat down on the park bench and watched the two people she loved most in the world hug.

Her head was spinning and there was so much left to be explained, so much damage and hurt to repair. That could all be dealt with later. Harry was home. Harry was alive. The very thought was enough to make her pass out. The long nights alone in a cold bed were over. It was too good to be true, to be real. Somehow, though, it was.

The park bench. It had been there when love initiated. It was there when love had left her. And now it was here when love returned. It was old and the white paint chipped easily, but oh, how she loved it anyway.