Remember Me

"No?" Harry would have fallen over if he hadn't been lying in bed.

"I can't, Harry." Hermione felt tears welling from the shock in his voice. But she held onto her resolve.

"Why the hell not?" Harry sat up and ran his fingers through already unkempt hair. The anger that surged through him abruptly vanished when he noticed her tears. "I thought you loved me," he said quietly.

Hermione felt her heart breaking. Harry had spent his formative years feeling unloved and unworthy...and now she'd made him feel that way again. She grabbed his hand tightly and lifted his chin so their eyes met. She had to make him understand.

"I do love you, Harry. That's why I can't marry you. Not now." She put a finger over his lips as he started to speak. If she didn't get this out now, she never would. "The last time we were together, Harry, we were seventeen years old. Even in the wizarding world, we were still children. When I say I love you, it's true. But it's a child's love. The love of a teenage girl who's fallen for her best friend.

"We're adults now, with adult lives. The past four years have been more than just a separation. We've grown into different people than we were at Hogwarts. You're a teacher. I'm a librarian. You spent years struggling with your grief. I spent years not knowing who I was. These things changed us, Harry. We need time to get to know the people we've become before we can commit to a lifetime together."

Harry said nothing. He couldn't. Having Hermione reject his proposal had robbed him of the ability to form coherent thought. But as he listened, he realized that she was right. Trust Hermione to look at the situation from all angles rather than plunge recklessly ahead.

Hermione watched as Harry closed his eyes then held her breath when he finally opened them again. "I understand, Mione."

Only then did she exhale. She cupped his face in her hands and drew him towards her.

Harry halted her before their lips met. "This doesn't mean you want us seeing other people, does it?"

"You damn well better not, Harry Potter, or you'll spend a lifetime trying to get the hex marks off," she grinned, grabbing his shoulders and wrestling him beneath her.

"But you will marry me eventually, won't you?" he asked softly, a vague shadow of the insecure little boy still evident in his voice.

Not trusting her own voice, she kissed him instead.

*^*^*^*^

"What's keeping them, do you think?" Ron asked Mariah as he walked back into the hotel room from the balcony. Hermione had called hours ago to say they'd be on their way soon, but since then they'd heard nothing.

"Think about it, Ron." Mariah answered smugly.

"Ah," Ron cleared his throat. "Yeah, you're probably right." Warmth spread through him as he thought of Harry and Hermione together again. It had been a long road to travel, full of potholes and detours, but the trip had been worth it...which reminded him. "Mariah?"

"Yes?" The room fell silent momentarily as Ron paused to gather his thoughts. He didn't particularly like humble pie.

"I want to apologize again," Ron began awkwardly. "For yelling at you yesterday. I should have been thanking you for everything you did, not criticizing the way you did it. After all, you didn't have to send the message or put the sleep charm on Hermione's bed. And you watched over her when we couldn't."

"You make it sound like I was babysitting her, Ron."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it. But you were there for her when she needed a friend. She was a witch without memory of her powers, an easy target for a dark wizard looking for a way to..." Ron stopped. The mere thought of what could have happened had anyone but Mariah found Hermione was staggering. "But you stood by her, became her friend. And you led us to her. I'll always be grateful for that."

Mariah felt the warmth creeping into her cheeks. "Ron," she began, but was cut off when he crossed the room to sit beside her.

"Just say thank you, Mariah," he grinned.

"Thank you," she replied dutifully, a smile pulling at her mouth. Tell him now, Mariah, tell him you have to go, her conscience screamed. But he was too close. She couldn't think.

Something foreign and wonderful lit up the blue of his eyes, and he leaned in towards her. He's going to kiss me, she thought anxiously, I can't let him do that. And before she could think about it any further, it was too late.

An explosion went off in her stomach, her nerve endings sizzled, and her heart sped into triple time as Ron's mouth moved over hers. Shaking fingers raised to his shoulders to push him away, but they got lost and ended up threading through his hair. Then they pulled him closer. A voice at the back of her head was screaming, you can't do this, Mariah. Stop now. But Ron's lips on hers, his hands unbuttoning her blouse, silenced all protests. She didn't want him to stop. Ever.

Later, much, much later, Ron took in a deep breath, shifted and settled Mariah's head on his shoulder, his hand threading through her hair. "Hmmmm," he sighed.

"Silver tongued devil," Mariah commented, worry and happiness warring within her. The small voice within her having awoken again.

"You weren't complaining earlier," Ron laughed, then winced as she pinched him. "We may want to get off this couch, though. Harry and Hermione could walk in at any moment..." He laughed harder when she sprang from him and began gathering her clothes in a mad dash to the bathroom. But he hastily replaced his clothes as well.

"Oh no," Mariah said, her voice muffled by the wall separating them.

"Mariah?" he called, a shimmer of worry threading through him.

She came back into the living area, holding her left wrist tightly, a strange look on her face. "I have to go," she said quietly and grabbed up her large purse.

Ron thought he heard her mumble something like "what have I done" but it was so low, he wasn't sure he'd heard her right.

"What's wrong?" The worry was intensifying rapidly as she nearly ran for the door. His heart was thudding heavily.

"Nothing," she said hastily, but Ron knew she was lying. "I just...I have to go," she repeated, again in a very low voice.

"Is there someone else?" Ron asked, the thud in his chest intensifying into dread. He'd never even thought she might be involved.

"Sort of."

"Isn't that like being sort of pregnant, Mariah? You either are or you aren't."

"It's complicated, Ron." Mariah made it to the door before Ron blocked her.

"Hang on," he said, not even trying to hide the sudden desperation he felt. "When will I see you again?"

"I don't know. But it'd be better for you if you didn't," Mariah said softly. She gave into impulse and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Goodbye, Ron," she whispered and Disapparated.

Ron stared at the place she had been for five full minutes before moving over to the chair in front of the television to wait for Harry and Hermione.

^*^*^*^*

Harry sat at his desk, waiting for the first years to finish their tests. But his mind wasn't on them at all. It wasn't on the Dark Arts or the staff meeting later that afternoon. It was on tomorrow. He'd be heading to the Grangers for Christmas break. He'd be seeing Hermione again.

It had been six months since they'd found Hermione. And six months since they'd started getting reacquainted. And he had to admit, courting Hermione had been rather fun. Although with the amount of flying she'd had to do between Hogwarts and the Granger's house, he doubted Hedwig would share that sentiment.

After a week of reuniting with her parents, he and Hermione had spent six weeks exploring London, Muggle and wizard. And they'd talked. Hour after hour, walking through museums, shopping in Diagon Alley. He'd told her about teaching. She'd told him about college. She hadn't changed so much as she had mellowed. There was still a thirst for knowledge, but it wasn't nearly as obsessive now. He supposed he'd changed as well, but Hermione didn't appear put off by it.

By unspoken agreement, they didn't talk about the years Harry spent dealing with his grief over her "death".

Then he'd returned to Hogwarts the last week of August to prepare for his lessons. He'd asked her again to marry him just before he left. Again, she'd refused. But this time, he mused, she'd seemed a bit more open to the prospect. Harry grinned to himself. He'd wear her down eventually.

The first letter had come a day after his return to school, and then they'd come about twice a week. Hedwig no longer stayed in his office. She'd drop the letter and go straight to the owlery after deliveries from Hermione, almost as if afraid she'd have to make the trip again before she could catch her breath.

He remembered every line from every letter.

Dearest Harry, (the first letter began)

I realize you just left this morning, but I already miss you beyond words. I think Mum's a bit low as well. We spent the day in the kitchen as she's trying to teach me to cook. For some reason, magic came much easier for me...

Dear Hermione,

Classes are going well. It only took this group of first years a week to get over the shock of who their teacher is. You were right, I showed the scar right off, gave them a long look. Now they focus on what's in my head instead of what's on it...

Dearest Harry,

The Halloween banquet sounds like it was fun this year, even without the troll. Molly sends her love and wanted me to tell you that you're more than welcome to stay with them over Christmas. I told her I wasn't letting you out of my sight. She laughed...

Dear Mione,

Yes, I've tried until I'm blue in the face, but I still can't get Ron to talk about Mariah. He just changes the subject. He will be coming home with me at Christmas (he promised Mrs. Weasley). Maybe you'll have better luck. I can't believe it's only a week until we're together again. I miss you so much, love...

Every letter had been better than the last. It still amazed him how they made her seem closer to him, even though she was a hundred miles away.

"Time's up," he announced, noticing that the last grain of sand had finally fallen from the top of the hourglass. As they dropped off their parchments, he watched the young faces, all excited over the upcoming holiday. There were three Gryffindors huddled near the back of the classroom, and his heart gave a sentimental tug. "You, too, David, Zach and Katia."

"Just coming, Professor Potter."

"Professor Potter?" Harry's head whipped towards the doorway. Harry blinked several times to ensure he wasn't seeing things. The few remaining students whispered her name and then stared back and forth at them.

"Mione?" Harry almost forgot himself, so great was the urge to grab her and kiss the breath from her body. But the presence of his students kept him in check.

She stood still, mouth twitching as he hurried the last of the students on their way. She lost the battle with her laughter as he nearly slammed the door on the last student through it.

"Oh, Professor Potter," Hermione raised her voice to a girlish giggle. "I'm having trouble with my lessons, could you tutor me?"

"There's only one effective way to stop that mouth," Harry grinned, and then pulled her close and kissed her hard.

"What are you doing here?" he asked when they came up for air. "I thought I was meeting you tomorrow."

"I finally mastered Apparating. I got my official license today and wanted to try it out. I did well, if I do say so myself. Arrived just outside the gates. I thought you and Ron might buy me dinner and then we could go home together tomorrow." Hermione fought the compulsion to tell him the real reason she'd come to Hogwarts. He'd find out soon enough.

*^*^*^

"Hermione Granger!" Madam Rosmerta called the moment they crossed the threshold of the Three Broomsticks. Before Hermione could return the greeting, she was enfolded in a bear hug that nearly broke her ribs. "I can't tell you how happy I am to have you back here." She wiped away at her eyes before ushering them to a table.

Ron walked in a second after they took their seats, and Madam Rosmerta clucked her tongue. "I should have known. You can't know how good it does my heart to see the three of you together. It's like everything is right with the world again." She walked away, still blotting her eyes.

"Rosmerta's getting soft in her old age," Ron commented as he took his seat.

She immediately came over and thunked him on the back of the head with a towel. "I can still throw you out, Mr. Weasley," she sniffed and walked back towards the bar.

"Maybe not," he grinned, rubbing his head. "So, Hermione, Apparating now, eh? How's it feel to be an official adult witch?"

"Wonderful, and Mum will be thrilled that I don't have to practice anymore. I think I scared a few years off her while I worked on it." Hermione laughed as she thought of the look on her mum's face when she'd suddenly appear next to her.

Harry and Hermione glanced nervously at each other, neither wanting to bring up Mariah, but both dying to ask.

"Quit it, you two," Ron said testily. "Okay, look. Mariah and I had a bit of a falling out. I get the distinct impression that she never wanted to see me again. That's it. Now can we please drop it?"

"Oh, Ron," Hermione reached over and took his hand. "I'm sorry. I just...I've gotten a few letters from her, but she's seemed so secretive. I was sort of hoping that you and she were corresponding..."

"No." Ron said and swiftly changed the subject. Even after six months, thoughts of Mariah still stung. "So what did Dumbledore say?" he asked Hermione. She looked vaguely guilty, her eyes shooting daggers at him.

"About what?" Harry asked, shifting in his chair to face her directly.

"A job, in a way," Hermione answered, hoping Harry wouldn't be too angry that she'd spoken to Ron about it and not him.

"Doing what?"

Hermione dearly wished he'd stop with the two word questions. His face was a blank slate, giving nothing away. "Research, I guess you'd call it. I want to continue work on the AK rebound, and Hogwarts seemed the best place to do it. Professor Dumbledore has agreed to let me work on it there. Professor Flitwick's going to help. I didn't tell you because I wasn't sure if he'd agree. I didn't want you getting your hopes up."

Her lungs were suddenly incapable of expelling air. She was watching Harry for any sign that he was upset. No one was more surprised than she was when a smile stretched his lips from ear to ear.

"You'll be working at Hogwarts? You'll be here, with me?"

"Yes," she said shyly.

And before she could truly believe that he was happy about it, she was in his arms being swung in a circle. Neither noticed nor cared that they had the attention of the entire bar. His lips met hers as her feet hit the floor. The kiss wasn't gentle, and it wasn't soft. It was almost a branding, but she didn't care. As far as she was concerned, it wasn't hard enough.

Harry pulled back slightly, arms still firm around her and said, "Marry me, Hermione,"

"Okay," she answered, straightfaced.

Harry nearly fell over. He'd become so accustomed to her saying no, he had to shake his head to make sure he wasn't hearing things. "What did you say?"

"I said okay." Hermione grasped his shoulders and pulled his mouth back to hers. But Harry wouldn't be distracted.

"You're serious?" He was almost afraid to believe it.

"I'm serious, Harry. Mum and I went shopping the other day and I saw this robe in Madam Malkins. All I could think was 'this is the one I'll wear when we get married'. I decided then that since I was already planning to do it, I might as well let you know."

When she stopped speaking, they finally realized that the bar had grown completely silent. A blush tinted Hermione's cheeks as she returned the smiles of all those around them.

"About bloody time," Ron said loudly, breaking the silence and paving the way for congratulations from all the customers, including a now openly crying Madam Rosmerta.