Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Hermione Granger and the Fall of Innocence
Chapter One:
Hermione opened her eyes and looked around. She could see to what seemed like the edge of the world itself. She leaned slightly to look down and saw the Quidditch pitch far below her. For an instant, she blanched and faltered, but Harry’s strong arm around her waist steadied her. “It’s beautiful,” she said quietly, watching out to the front and sides, careful not to look down again.
“You can fly if you would like,” Harry whispered in her ear. He knew that she hadn’t been flying since their first year. She was always grounded, mentally, emotionally, and physically. He had convinced her to come along with him just this once.
“I... I don’t think so, Harry,” she said, her voice getting caught in her throat. “Can we go a little lower, please?”
“Alright,” he said. He tightened his grip on her waist, leaned forward, and started a dive. When he pulled out of it, about twenty feet above ground, his eardrums were aching from Hermione’s shrill, piercing scream.
“Harry Potter! You put me back down on the ground, slowly, right now!” she demanded.
“Aww, Hermione, come on...” Harry pretended to whine. Hermione contemplated sending an elbow to Harry’s ribs, but decided against it, deciding to wait until her feet were again planted firmly on the ground. Harry let the broomstick sink slowly to the ground until their feet touched.
Hermione immediately dismounted and spun around angrily. “You know I’m scar-... I don’t like flying.” Her cheeks were turning a deep red shade, and her eyes became a deeper shade of brown.
“I wasn’t going to let anything happen, Hermione,” Harry said sincerely, looking at her. He stepped a little closer, within arm distance so that he could take her in his arms and make everything better. “You know, you’re beautiful when you’re all flustered,” he grinned.
Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Instead, she merely used her elbow in his ribcage as she turned to walk away.
“Hermione, wait!” Harry yelled as he laughed, regaining his ability to breathe. He ran up behind her, saying all the while, “I’m sorry, Hermione, come on, I won’t do it again, I promise.” He reached her and turned her around. Taking her chin in his hand, he tilted her face up so that she was looking at him. “Forgive me?” When her eyes softened, but only the smallest bit, he added, “I’ll make it up to you.”
“You’d better,” she grinned. Harry grinned back and leaned down to kiss her.
***
Hermione went back to her chambers that night and laid down on her bed to think and reminisce a little before she fell asleep. She thought back to the day she met Harry Potter. She had mentioned something about how he was famous, and he didn’t even know it. All these years, he managed to stay normal. She could only imagine what Draco would have turned out to be like had he been famous since the age of one. She never looked at Harry as the Boy-Who-Lived anymore, even if she had mentioned it in their first meeting. He was always just Harry, Harry her friend, Harry, the boy who had grown into something more to her.
She wondered if Professor McGonagall had ever sat back and just thought about Professor Dumbledore. She didn’t realize that at that very moment, Minerva was doing just that. Dressed in a nightgown, with her black hair falling down the middle of her back, she sat at her window, gazing at the stars, thinking about Albus. Somewhere in the back of her mind, sixty years ago, she knew that the mean things he had said about her were untrue, that he really did love her, but she didn’t allow herself to believe in hope. She built a wall around her heart to protect it from future heartbreak, and in doing so, she closed herself off to everyone, becoming the form of the rigid, law-abiding and –enforcing deputy headmistress everyone thought she was. Albus was the only one who ever saw her as the woman she really was, kind and gentle, loving and caring. Once he tore down the walls of her heart, after sixty years of cement and brick, she returned happily to the woman she was before.
Her students, except for Harry, Hermione, and Ron, seemed shocked to come into Transfiguration one day and see her with her hair down around her shoulders and her square rimmed glasses replaced with contacts. She looked twenty years younger. There was a knock on the door and she smiled as she rose to open it for Albus.
Chapter Two:
Lucius bowed low when the Dark Lord took the goblet from his hands. “Drink, my Lord, and regain your strength.” Voldemort’s thin lips peeled back from his teeth in a ghastly excuse for a grin.
“Malfoy,” he started, his voice high pitched, but raspy, with a chill that sent shivers down Lucius’ spine.
“Yes, milord?” the proud man asked. Voldemort was the only man Lucius had ever bowed to in his life.
“I have a job for you,” he continued. “I will have my revenge on Harry Potter and Dumbledore before the end of the school term. I will need my strength back.”
“Speak, and all shall be done,” Lucius said.
Voldemort’s red eyes narrowed as he criticized Lucius. “You have twelve days to make me strong. If you fail, I shall take your body as my own.”
“Of course, milord.” Lucius bowed again and left the dark wizard, the very embodiment of evil, in his sitting room. He went to the dungeons beneath his mansion to his potions set. “Severus thinks he’s so great,” Lucius mumbled to himself as he poured more of the potion he had made for his master. There was a cloud of smoke and a flash of red light. “I’d like to see him make this,” he grinned, bringing it up to Voldemort.
Lucius presented another goblet to the pale, tall man. His white fingers gripped the goblet, like a spider encircling it’s prey. As he drank, he could feel the blood pump throughout his body. “I may not need to use your body after all, Lucius,” Voldemort sneered.
***
Hermione and Harry walked out of the front doors after classes were dismissed that afternoon. After a visit with Hagrid, they went on to have a picnic at the edge of the lake.
“I can’t believe we’re going to be leaving Hogwarts soon,” Hermione started, glancing back at the towering school.
“Yeah, it’s going to be pretty strange, but I’m sure we’ll get used to it.”
“I have no idea what I’m going to do. It’s kind of scary, you know? Knowing that I’ll be in the real wizarding world, and still clueless,” she explained.
Harry grinned, “I can’t imagine you being clueless, Hermione.”
“Well, what about you? Have you thought about what you want to do?” she asked.
“I might try to play Quidditch, but beyond that, I’m not sure.”
A warm, inviting silence feel between the two as they watched the sun set and Hermione moved closer to Harry. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck, resting his chin on her shoulder as they gazed at the sky. Motion to his left caught Harry’s eye.
“Hermione,” he whispered.
“Hmmm?”
“Look...” Hermione turned her head and saw Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall walking hand in hand in the twilight. “I guess we weren’t the only ones who thought about this, huh?” They turned away to give them their privacy as Dumbledore pulled her in for a kiss.
“They look so happy together. I feel sorry for them. Sixty years of hiding everything,” she said softly. “You should take note, Harry... if you ever feel you need to break my heart to protect me, I’ll kill you,” she grinned.
“I’d never be able to bring myself to do it, Hermione,” he replied softly. He sighed and spoke again. “I want to you to know that I will always love you, and I want to know that you will always love me, no matter what.”
“Of course, Harry. I... I’d had a crush on you for so long, but I wouldn’t even let myself think about it. I’d always thought you’d seen me as a friend. Then, when we went back to 1945, I realized it wasn’t a crush. I do love you, Harry, and I always will.”
“Then marry me,” Harry replied softly in her ear.
Hermione looked back at him in shock.
“All it takes is one word, Hermione. Will you?” he asked, his green eyes sparkling in the starlight. He reached into his robes and pulled out a small box. Inside was a thin gold ring with a sparkling diamond.
“You... you planned... yes, yes, of course, Harry,” she replied, her shock slowly melting away. Harry slipped the ring onto her finger before reaching up to kiss her gently. When they pulled apart, Dumbledore and McGonagall had found their way over to them.
“Good evening, Professors,” Harry grinned.
“Harry, Hermione. How are you doing tonight?” Dumbledore asked with a twinkle in his eye that seemed to be ten times brighter than it had been since 1945.
“Just fine, sir. Just pondering the future,” he replied.
“Graduation can be a little scary, but life will never be bad as long as the one you love is by your side,” Minerva said softly. Harry and Hermione smiled at each other.
“Congratulations, to you both,” Dumbledore said before the elder couple walked away.
“How does he do that?” Harry asked, thinking about the Time Turner and now the engagement.
“Maybe he just recognizes the scene,” Hermione shrugged. She leaned forward and kissed him again. “Come on, we’re pushing curfew,” she smiled.
“Awww... and I thought Ron and I had nearly cured your obsession with following the rules,” he grinned as he stood and helped her to her feet. Harry put everything back into the picnic basket and the two of them walked back to Gryffindor Tower hand in hand.
Hermione opened her eyes and looked around. She could see to what seemed like the edge of the world itself. She leaned slightly to look down and saw the Quidditch pitch far below her. For an instant, she blanched and faltered, but Harry’s strong arm around her waist steadied her. “It’s beautiful,” she said quietly, watching out to the front and sides, careful not to look down again.
“You can fly if you would like,” Harry whispered in her ear. He knew that she hadn’t been flying since their first year. She was always grounded, mentally, emotionally, and physically. He had convinced her to come along with him just this once.
“I... I don’t think so, Harry,” she said, her voice getting caught in her throat. “Can we go a little lower, please?”
“Alright,” he said. He tightened his grip on her waist, leaned forward, and started a dive. When he pulled out of it, about twenty feet above ground, his eardrums were aching from Hermione’s shrill, piercing scream.
“Harry Potter! You put me back down on the ground, slowly, right now!” she demanded.
“Aww, Hermione, come on...” Harry pretended to whine. Hermione contemplated sending an elbow to Harry’s ribs, but decided against it, deciding to wait until her feet were again planted firmly on the ground. Harry let the broomstick sink slowly to the ground until their feet touched.
Hermione immediately dismounted and spun around angrily. “You know I’m scar-... I don’t like flying.” Her cheeks were turning a deep red shade, and her eyes became a deeper shade of brown.
“I wasn’t going to let anything happen, Hermione,” Harry said sincerely, looking at her. He stepped a little closer, within arm distance so that he could take her in his arms and make everything better. “You know, you’re beautiful when you’re all flustered,” he grinned.
Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Instead, she merely used her elbow in his ribcage as she turned to walk away.
“Hermione, wait!” Harry yelled as he laughed, regaining his ability to breathe. He ran up behind her, saying all the while, “I’m sorry, Hermione, come on, I won’t do it again, I promise.” He reached her and turned her around. Taking her chin in his hand, he tilted her face up so that she was looking at him. “Forgive me?” When her eyes softened, but only the smallest bit, he added, “I’ll make it up to you.”
“You’d better,” she grinned. Harry grinned back and leaned down to kiss her.
***
Hermione went back to her chambers that night and laid down on her bed to think and reminisce a little before she fell asleep. She thought back to the day she met Harry Potter. She had mentioned something about how he was famous, and he didn’t even know it. All these years, he managed to stay normal. She could only imagine what Draco would have turned out to be like had he been famous since the age of one. She never looked at Harry as the Boy-Who-Lived anymore, even if she had mentioned it in their first meeting. He was always just Harry, Harry her friend, Harry, the boy who had grown into something more to her.
She wondered if Professor McGonagall had ever sat back and just thought about Professor Dumbledore. She didn’t realize that at that very moment, Minerva was doing just that. Dressed in a nightgown, with her black hair falling down the middle of her back, she sat at her window, gazing at the stars, thinking about Albus. Somewhere in the back of her mind, sixty years ago, she knew that the mean things he had said about her were untrue, that he really did love her, but she didn’t allow herself to believe in hope. She built a wall around her heart to protect it from future heartbreak, and in doing so, she closed herself off to everyone, becoming the form of the rigid, law-abiding and –enforcing deputy headmistress everyone thought she was. Albus was the only one who ever saw her as the woman she really was, kind and gentle, loving and caring. Once he tore down the walls of her heart, after sixty years of cement and brick, she returned happily to the woman she was before.
Her students, except for Harry, Hermione, and Ron, seemed shocked to come into Transfiguration one day and see her with her hair down around her shoulders and her square rimmed glasses replaced with contacts. She looked twenty years younger. There was a knock on the door and she smiled as she rose to open it for Albus.
Chapter Two:
Lucius bowed low when the Dark Lord took the goblet from his hands. “Drink, my Lord, and regain your strength.” Voldemort’s thin lips peeled back from his teeth in a ghastly excuse for a grin.
“Malfoy,” he started, his voice high pitched, but raspy, with a chill that sent shivers down Lucius’ spine.
“Yes, milord?” the proud man asked. Voldemort was the only man Lucius had ever bowed to in his life.
“I have a job for you,” he continued. “I will have my revenge on Harry Potter and Dumbledore before the end of the school term. I will need my strength back.”
“Speak, and all shall be done,” Lucius said.
Voldemort’s red eyes narrowed as he criticized Lucius. “You have twelve days to make me strong. If you fail, I shall take your body as my own.”
“Of course, milord.” Lucius bowed again and left the dark wizard, the very embodiment of evil, in his sitting room. He went to the dungeons beneath his mansion to his potions set. “Severus thinks he’s so great,” Lucius mumbled to himself as he poured more of the potion he had made for his master. There was a cloud of smoke and a flash of red light. “I’d like to see him make this,” he grinned, bringing it up to Voldemort.
Lucius presented another goblet to the pale, tall man. His white fingers gripped the goblet, like a spider encircling it’s prey. As he drank, he could feel the blood pump throughout his body. “I may not need to use your body after all, Lucius,” Voldemort sneered.
***
Hermione and Harry walked out of the front doors after classes were dismissed that afternoon. After a visit with Hagrid, they went on to have a picnic at the edge of the lake.
“I can’t believe we’re going to be leaving Hogwarts soon,” Hermione started, glancing back at the towering school.
“Yeah, it’s going to be pretty strange, but I’m sure we’ll get used to it.”
“I have no idea what I’m going to do. It’s kind of scary, you know? Knowing that I’ll be in the real wizarding world, and still clueless,” she explained.
Harry grinned, “I can’t imagine you being clueless, Hermione.”
“Well, what about you? Have you thought about what you want to do?” she asked.
“I might try to play Quidditch, but beyond that, I’m not sure.”
A warm, inviting silence feel between the two as they watched the sun set and Hermione moved closer to Harry. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck, resting his chin on her shoulder as they gazed at the sky. Motion to his left caught Harry’s eye.
“Hermione,” he whispered.
“Hmmm?”
“Look...” Hermione turned her head and saw Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall walking hand in hand in the twilight. “I guess we weren’t the only ones who thought about this, huh?” They turned away to give them their privacy as Dumbledore pulled her in for a kiss.
“They look so happy together. I feel sorry for them. Sixty years of hiding everything,” she said softly. “You should take note, Harry... if you ever feel you need to break my heart to protect me, I’ll kill you,” she grinned.
“I’d never be able to bring myself to do it, Hermione,” he replied softly. He sighed and spoke again. “I want to you to know that I will always love you, and I want to know that you will always love me, no matter what.”
“Of course, Harry. I... I’d had a crush on you for so long, but I wouldn’t even let myself think about it. I’d always thought you’d seen me as a friend. Then, when we went back to 1945, I realized it wasn’t a crush. I do love you, Harry, and I always will.”
“Then marry me,” Harry replied softly in her ear.
Hermione looked back at him in shock.
“All it takes is one word, Hermione. Will you?” he asked, his green eyes sparkling in the starlight. He reached into his robes and pulled out a small box. Inside was a thin gold ring with a sparkling diamond.
“You... you planned... yes, yes, of course, Harry,” she replied, her shock slowly melting away. Harry slipped the ring onto her finger before reaching up to kiss her gently. When they pulled apart, Dumbledore and McGonagall had found their way over to them.
“Good evening, Professors,” Harry grinned.
“Harry, Hermione. How are you doing tonight?” Dumbledore asked with a twinkle in his eye that seemed to be ten times brighter than it had been since 1945.
“Just fine, sir. Just pondering the future,” he replied.
“Graduation can be a little scary, but life will never be bad as long as the one you love is by your side,” Minerva said softly. Harry and Hermione smiled at each other.
“Congratulations, to you both,” Dumbledore said before the elder couple walked away.
“How does he do that?” Harry asked, thinking about the Time Turner and now the engagement.
“Maybe he just recognizes the scene,” Hermione shrugged. She leaned forward and kissed him again. “Come on, we’re pushing curfew,” she smiled.
“Awww... and I thought Ron and I had nearly cured your obsession with following the rules,” he grinned as he stood and helped her to her feet. Harry put everything back into the picnic basket and the two of them walked back to Gryffindor Tower hand in hand.
Sign up to rate and review this story