Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Harry Potter and the Season of Hell
11. Hell Unbound.
Hermione heard the sound of apparation, and prepared herself for a magical visitor. Constant Vigilance rang in her head from Alastor Moody. She had to be prepared for friend or foe. She is still a muggle-born witch who has aided Harry Potter on his many confrontations with Tom Riddle. With her wand in her hand, she approached the window in her bedroom. Carefully peaking outward, she saw the familiar shock of bubble-gum pink hair; and new that good, bad, or indifferent, she would have some answers.
She knew now that she had feelings for Harry, and she also knew that he had a girlfriend in Auror Tonks. She weighed her options and decided firmly that she liked Tonks a great deal, and she had always been friendly to her. She had also gone out of her way to talk to Harry about a really sensitive subject, and early in a relationship that could prove to go many ways.
Judging by her expression, as Hermione steadily watched Tonks approach, she seemed her normal happy self, so that could only be a good sign. At the sound of the doorbell, she quickly exited her room and made a mad dash down the stairs, hurdling ottomans and coffee tables as she went. Arriving at the front door out of breath, she quickly tried to calm herself, before she opened the door.
"Wotcher, Hermione." Tonks said, handing her a bit of parchment, which clearly was more than a bit and the scowl across it was clearly also in Harry's handwriting.
"Come in, Tonks, would you care for anything to drink," she asked, nervously as her shaking hands moved over the letter.
"No thanks. I've been instructed to wait for you to read that in a more private area, and then wait for your response." She said with a small smile, which didn't give away the contents of the letter Hermione held.
"OK, let's go to my room, then?"
"Lead on." She said.
Once upstairs, Hermione's nerves were clearly getting the better of her. She sat on her bed, cross-legged, while Tonks to the chair in front of her desk. They had been in this position before during the previous two weeks, as Tonks checked on her from time to time. Hermione, taking a deep breath opened the letter and began reading.
Dear Hermione,
This has been a difficult letter for me to write. I've grown accustomed to hearing from you, and had missed it this past year. I was surprised to get your letter and frankly found myself in the dog house quite a bit later with Tonks, but mostly due to my Gryffindor pride.
We had been friends for six years and I'd relied on you for a great many things. No that's not what I wanted to say. Hermione, there are things about me that you don't know. Things that I had kept hidden from you, and well everyone. The first thing is this. Realizing now that Ron is, well a prat, a liar, a thief, you were my very first real friend. You've given me advice, helped with homework, and you believed in me when no one else would or even cared to. You've taken care of me during our fifth year after nasty sessions with Umbridge. You were a true friend.
I, on the other hand, have not be a true friend. Now, before you argue the point, I've asked Tonks to bring with her a surprise that I must ask that you utilize...
Hermione looks at Tonks at which points see her pull something from her pocket. With a quick wave of her wand, a full size pensieve is sitting on her desk. The silver shimmering liquid is brimming within the basin. She then looks back down and continues to read where she left off.
Hermione, the pensieve contains some select memories that I have placed in it for you to few. I can tell you up front, what you are going to see is different exerts from my life. I've not really gone into great deal of explanation as to my home life other than I hated it, and my relatives were horrible.
I want you to see first hand my life. I request that if you want me to go beyond this point with accepting your apology, I must insist you see everything that it contains. The remainder of this letter, is now charmed, and will only be activated by a password, contained in the pensieve.
Hermione looked at Tonks now, clearly scared. She didn't know what she wanted to do. She knew there were horrors shimmering in the basin.
"It says he wants me to view the memories, now." Hermione said a little unsure.
"I've already viewed them Hermione. You'll be fine. I know it, okay?" Tonks said, which was only answered with a resolute nod. She approached the basin, plucking up her own Gryffindor courage plunged her head in.
At first there was complete darkness. She could hear a rumbling outside followed by a flash of light illuminating an grate-like opening in a door. She could see a small boy of about three or four years old, huddled in what could only be the cupboard that he had mentioned to her. He cried out, tears evident with the previous lightning strike was quickly succeeded.
"BOY! IT FOUR IN THE BLOODY MORNING, QUIT YOUR INCESSANT CRYING!" A man screamed and banged harshly on the door. Moments later she watched the door being wrenched open, young harry being yanked out by the hair on his head, and beaten mercilessly with the wrong end of a belt. The buckle tore viciously into his naked skin.
This image of abuse was continued over and over again, and she started having a hard time understanding if it was some error in the memory, but finally could see that they were different, as Harry's uncle would alternate between his use of BOY, or FREAK, bellowed at the top of his lungs.
Her tears didn't flow unabated until Harry's first day at primary school, where he wouldn't look the new teacher in the eye. He hands his teach a torn scrap of paper, shyly. Which the teacher quickly takes and unfolds.
"My name is Harry Potter." She says out loud. Looking at the boy inquisitively. "Is it then, your name, I mean?" She asks kindly but gets no response.
Hermione is wracked with sobs now, realizing that Harry didn't know his own name. She had gotten distracted, and the images started in quicker succession, now. Harry in the playground being beaten on by Dudley. Harry trying to make a friend, and Dudley beating them up one after another. Harry being chased by Dudley and Dudley's friends.
She watched in abject horror as Harry was beaten for bring home a report card with top marks because he was attempting to outshine his aunt Petunia's icle Diddy Duddikins. She watched Harry study intensely, only to hold back when it came to test.
The scenes changed again, and she watched Harry at six prepare breakfast for his entire family whilst he was given the yolk stained dirty plates and a half piece of dry toast. She watched meal after meal of his constant neglect and watched slowly as while the boy appeared to have been broken and completely subservient to the Dursley's he was an avid reader when in school.
She watched his birthdays being completely ignored, while only learning when his birthday actually was from a teacher at school. She always watched Dudley getting more round by each interaction with his cousin. She watched Dudley being spoiled beyond logic and reason.
She watched Christmas pass, not locked up in the cupboard, but out and about watching every one exchange wonderous gifts, which his aunt and uncle though it rather humorous to give him a old holey pair of socks, or a bit of used toilet tissue.
She watched the wonderous, as well. She watched Harry Potter apparate atop his primary school when Dudley and his little gang were engaging in Harry hunting, as they called it. She watched in horror as his aunt shaved him bald, and he cried himself to sleep begging god that it grow back, only to have it do just that.
She felt hatred well up inside her that was the likes that the Dark Lord Voldemort himself would tremble in the sight of as she watched Harry receive his very first, of many, Hogwarts letters. It wasn't the letter than bother her but the address as being the Cupboard under the stairs. Headmaster knew all along, and did nothing. Nothing but carelessly ignore this pain.
She watched as Hagrid saved Harry, baked him a cake, which he explained was sat on. She laughed as Hagrid used magic on Dudley. She watched, as the bile crept into the back of her throat as he met Ron for the first time, and then looked at Harry in shock the whole time when he met her for the first time. He couldn't take his eye off the little sarcastic and condescending which. 'Was I really that bad?' She thought to herself.
Anger welled in her again as she watched the argument between Ron and Harry on Halloween after Harry had to basically beg Ron to come help look for her. She watched something that she didn't expect whatsoever. She found Harry, in his bed, behind the curtains, studying intensely, and nightly until the wee hours of the morning. She was shocked that he wasn't just studying defense, charms or transfiguration, but all the subjects, including potions. She had been had. He never needed her help. He wanted her involvement.
She watched Harry through his eyes watching her as well, throughout each year. She watched him cry out in pain as she lay motionless in the hospital wing after being petrified. She watched him with the sheepiest grin, and utter content me atop Buckbeat, or Witherwings depending on whose company you're in. The grin wasn't just because of the flying but she was checking him check her out, often looking down at her arms wrapped around him.
She watched his disappointment, as she laid her head on Ron's shoulder when they had thought that Buckbeat had been executed, as well, and realized that maybe that had been the foundation for why his clear interest had been kept to himself.
She watched as Harry had been shot down my Cho, when he asked her to the ball. And watched as he checked her out, coming down the stairs for the ball. She also watched as he intently watched her and Viktor dancing together. She saw the disgust in Ronald's eyes, but couldn't mistake the longing in Harry's eyes for a second.
She watched Cedric die, and cried for the boy and for Harry. She watched in horror as Voldemort was reborn. She also watched with supreme pride in her friend as he faced off Voldemort, causing the PRIORE INCANTANTUM. She watched and listened to the brief conversation with his parents.
She watched Harry's consistent torment and abuse from Umbridge. She also watched Harry watching her continuously and intently when she was helping heal him. She watched their fight in the Department of Mysteries, and the horror on Harry's face as his godfather was hit with a simple stunner, which caused a premature end to his life.
She watched as Harry heard the prophecy for the very first time and watched as his destroyed the headmasters office. She watched as Harry returned to his relatives over and over during this playback of his life, but never registered anything close to defeat until the summer after Sirius died.
The memories of Harry's sixth year were his most disappointing and what he placed in the pensieve showed him always watching her. Watching her angry or distant from him, and the hard part of his struggle was that he was always studious, when everyone went to sleep, always in constant preparation.
She watched the brief relationship with Ginny, and felt her disgust well up in her again. She even caught bits and pieces where she was actually drugging him. The bile made its return to the back of her throat and she had to force it back down. She never felt a hatred of another single person, not even Ronald, until that moment.
She watched the secret meetings with Dumbledore and frank felt them to be a enormous waste of time and energy. She didn't understand the one fundamental thing that was lacking during all of Harry Potter's Hogwart years. Why, if the Headmaster was such a good and honest man, had he not prepared Harry Potter for the imminent battle that was obviously facing against Tom Riddle if he knew that Harry was the only chance of defeating the dark lord.
Everything flashed a bright white for a moment, which momentarily had Hermione confused. She looked around into the abyss for a moment before light faded, and in this room, she sat in front of Harry Potter in a room all by himself.
"Please sit in front of me." He said, solemnly and waited for effect. "Hermione, what I'm doing right now is sitting in a room talking to myself, and more importantly you because I plan to place this memory with the others that, no doubt, you're viewing right now. The sorting hat said that I would do well in Slytherin for a reason. I've hidden my special things that I do, as far as study because I've enjoyed the time and frankly the fuss you've put forth on my behalf for at least my studies. I've not had a nice life, up to this point, as far as the memories that I plan to put into the pensieve. I had never knew what love was, been without it my whole life. At this point, my life was an empty shell and I was hoping to die while taking Tom with me. I never really cared for Cho. Sure she was pretty, but ultimately the person I wanted never really shown me any interest outside of helping me along these lovely adventures," Harry said almost sarcastically. "When you turned your back on my I wanted to sink into myself and die, and I've doubled my efforts in my studies. When I was with Ginny, it was like a monster welled up in my chest ready to bounce at every moment until I called an end to it, and let the potion run it's course.
Harry stood up from the chair that he was sitting in, and started pacing the room back and forth almost like a jaguar inside of it cage. He would go over the same trail over and again, at the same pace. It appeared to help him because after a few minutes at it he finally seemed to settle down, before he came back to his seat and sat down.
"Until a few weeks ago, I didn't know what love was. I'd never been exposed to it growing up and although I had heard it being spoken about periodically throughout my life and never directed to me, I had nothing to gauge it upon."
Everything went white again, and while this was happening she really couldn't tell how much time had passed. When it finally did clear, she found Harry sitting in his bedroom, looking out the window as a witch with a shock of pink hair tripped causing a rather loud snort, which caused every so far(in this story) to happen.
She watched the cute interaction between Harry and Tonks. She watched everything that happened at the Burrow from Harry's perspective. She watched what happened at the bank and the visit to Tonks' mum's home. She watched Harry get those precious memories of his childhood back and learned a devious little nickname.
She sat back and wailed a deep heart-wrenching sob at the realization that the man she had loved before the Amortentia, was head of hells in love with some other woman, and a rather amazingly upbeat, bright, fiercely loyal witch at that. She had lost him, her only friend and the real love of her life. She recognized the utter bliss that he found himself in with her, and the ease in which he found himself in finally getting to be just Harry, when it came to his Nymmy. The scene finally faded to white again.
"Hermione, I'm happy now for the first time because I finally found someone who loves me. I finally know what it is to say that yes I am in love with Nymmy, and you better not let her know I have given you away her nickname, but she's probably already watched this, so I've been dealt with... Well, anyway, but it did remind me of something and I'm sure that you have figured it out by now. Remus didn't call you the cleverest witch of our age, for nothing. I loved you, Hermione, before I knew what love was. I'm sorry that you didn't feel me worthy to love in return." He said finally and quietly.
"Hermione, the password, is 'Books and Cleverness'. He said, with a tired grin before everything faded to black and she felt the pressure of being forced out of the memory.
Tonks Residence
Harry Potter had watched Nymmy walk out of the door with the pensieve. He had taken a good hour write the letter that he had for her, He hoped that she would actually she the courage to take the leap into the memories. They were his memories and he could barely stand the emotional turmoil left in the wake of them.
He sat there now, just minutes after she left and watched in confusion as he saw an eagle owl fly into the room that he had never seen before. It was quite friendly, and didn't pose an immediate threat. It landed in front of him, and presented its leg. Having retrieved the left it promptly left. He opened the letter and to his delight for his friend read it quickly.
Mr. Potter,
Please accept this official invitation, one week from today to celebrate the coming of age for our son, Neville Longbottom. He considers you a friend amongst many, and has claimed that the reason for his many friends is due greatly to knowing you. We would also like to extend our heartfelt thanks to you for everything that you have done for Neville.
Neville explained to us in great detail what his life had been like while at Hogwarts, and mentioned that you had stood up, both, for her and to him on many occasions. Having been dear friends with both your mother and father, we can see the two of them in the descriptions that he has portrayed of you.
Your bravery and conviction from your father matches well with the empathy, endearing friendship and fierce loyalty of your mother. I do hope that you will attend and please send an owl as to your intent.
Sincerely,
Alice Longbottom
Hermione heard the sound of apparation, and prepared herself for a magical visitor. Constant Vigilance rang in her head from Alastor Moody. She had to be prepared for friend or foe. She is still a muggle-born witch who has aided Harry Potter on his many confrontations with Tom Riddle. With her wand in her hand, she approached the window in her bedroom. Carefully peaking outward, she saw the familiar shock of bubble-gum pink hair; and new that good, bad, or indifferent, she would have some answers.
She knew now that she had feelings for Harry, and she also knew that he had a girlfriend in Auror Tonks. She weighed her options and decided firmly that she liked Tonks a great deal, and she had always been friendly to her. She had also gone out of her way to talk to Harry about a really sensitive subject, and early in a relationship that could prove to go many ways.
Judging by her expression, as Hermione steadily watched Tonks approach, she seemed her normal happy self, so that could only be a good sign. At the sound of the doorbell, she quickly exited her room and made a mad dash down the stairs, hurdling ottomans and coffee tables as she went. Arriving at the front door out of breath, she quickly tried to calm herself, before she opened the door.
"Wotcher, Hermione." Tonks said, handing her a bit of parchment, which clearly was more than a bit and the scowl across it was clearly also in Harry's handwriting.
"Come in, Tonks, would you care for anything to drink," she asked, nervously as her shaking hands moved over the letter.
"No thanks. I've been instructed to wait for you to read that in a more private area, and then wait for your response." She said with a small smile, which didn't give away the contents of the letter Hermione held.
"OK, let's go to my room, then?"
"Lead on." She said.
Once upstairs, Hermione's nerves were clearly getting the better of her. She sat on her bed, cross-legged, while Tonks to the chair in front of her desk. They had been in this position before during the previous two weeks, as Tonks checked on her from time to time. Hermione, taking a deep breath opened the letter and began reading.
Dear Hermione,
This has been a difficult letter for me to write. I've grown accustomed to hearing from you, and had missed it this past year. I was surprised to get your letter and frankly found myself in the dog house quite a bit later with Tonks, but mostly due to my Gryffindor pride.
We had been friends for six years and I'd relied on you for a great many things. No that's not what I wanted to say. Hermione, there are things about me that you don't know. Things that I had kept hidden from you, and well everyone. The first thing is this. Realizing now that Ron is, well a prat, a liar, a thief, you were my very first real friend. You've given me advice, helped with homework, and you believed in me when no one else would or even cared to. You've taken care of me during our fifth year after nasty sessions with Umbridge. You were a true friend.
I, on the other hand, have not be a true friend. Now, before you argue the point, I've asked Tonks to bring with her a surprise that I must ask that you utilize...
Hermione looks at Tonks at which points see her pull something from her pocket. With a quick wave of her wand, a full size pensieve is sitting on her desk. The silver shimmering liquid is brimming within the basin. She then looks back down and continues to read where she left off.
Hermione, the pensieve contains some select memories that I have placed in it for you to few. I can tell you up front, what you are going to see is different exerts from my life. I've not really gone into great deal of explanation as to my home life other than I hated it, and my relatives were horrible.
I want you to see first hand my life. I request that if you want me to go beyond this point with accepting your apology, I must insist you see everything that it contains. The remainder of this letter, is now charmed, and will only be activated by a password, contained in the pensieve.
Hermione looked at Tonks now, clearly scared. She didn't know what she wanted to do. She knew there were horrors shimmering in the basin.
"It says he wants me to view the memories, now." Hermione said a little unsure.
"I've already viewed them Hermione. You'll be fine. I know it, okay?" Tonks said, which was only answered with a resolute nod. She approached the basin, plucking up her own Gryffindor courage plunged her head in.
At first there was complete darkness. She could hear a rumbling outside followed by a flash of light illuminating an grate-like opening in a door. She could see a small boy of about three or four years old, huddled in what could only be the cupboard that he had mentioned to her. He cried out, tears evident with the previous lightning strike was quickly succeeded.
"BOY! IT FOUR IN THE BLOODY MORNING, QUIT YOUR INCESSANT CRYING!" A man screamed and banged harshly on the door. Moments later she watched the door being wrenched open, young harry being yanked out by the hair on his head, and beaten mercilessly with the wrong end of a belt. The buckle tore viciously into his naked skin.
This image of abuse was continued over and over again, and she started having a hard time understanding if it was some error in the memory, but finally could see that they were different, as Harry's uncle would alternate between his use of BOY, or FREAK, bellowed at the top of his lungs.
Her tears didn't flow unabated until Harry's first day at primary school, where he wouldn't look the new teacher in the eye. He hands his teach a torn scrap of paper, shyly. Which the teacher quickly takes and unfolds.
"My name is Harry Potter." She says out loud. Looking at the boy inquisitively. "Is it then, your name, I mean?" She asks kindly but gets no response.
Hermione is wracked with sobs now, realizing that Harry didn't know his own name. She had gotten distracted, and the images started in quicker succession, now. Harry in the playground being beaten on by Dudley. Harry trying to make a friend, and Dudley beating them up one after another. Harry being chased by Dudley and Dudley's friends.
She watched in abject horror as Harry was beaten for bring home a report card with top marks because he was attempting to outshine his aunt Petunia's icle Diddy Duddikins. She watched Harry study intensely, only to hold back when it came to test.
The scenes changed again, and she watched Harry at six prepare breakfast for his entire family whilst he was given the yolk stained dirty plates and a half piece of dry toast. She watched meal after meal of his constant neglect and watched slowly as while the boy appeared to have been broken and completely subservient to the Dursley's he was an avid reader when in school.
She watched his birthdays being completely ignored, while only learning when his birthday actually was from a teacher at school. She always watched Dudley getting more round by each interaction with his cousin. She watched Dudley being spoiled beyond logic and reason.
She watched Christmas pass, not locked up in the cupboard, but out and about watching every one exchange wonderous gifts, which his aunt and uncle though it rather humorous to give him a old holey pair of socks, or a bit of used toilet tissue.
She watched the wonderous, as well. She watched Harry Potter apparate atop his primary school when Dudley and his little gang were engaging in Harry hunting, as they called it. She watched in horror as his aunt shaved him bald, and he cried himself to sleep begging god that it grow back, only to have it do just that.
She felt hatred well up inside her that was the likes that the Dark Lord Voldemort himself would tremble in the sight of as she watched Harry receive his very first, of many, Hogwarts letters. It wasn't the letter than bother her but the address as being the Cupboard under the stairs. Headmaster knew all along, and did nothing. Nothing but carelessly ignore this pain.
She watched as Hagrid saved Harry, baked him a cake, which he explained was sat on. She laughed as Hagrid used magic on Dudley. She watched, as the bile crept into the back of her throat as he met Ron for the first time, and then looked at Harry in shock the whole time when he met her for the first time. He couldn't take his eye off the little sarcastic and condescending which. 'Was I really that bad?' She thought to herself.
Anger welled in her again as she watched the argument between Ron and Harry on Halloween after Harry had to basically beg Ron to come help look for her. She watched something that she didn't expect whatsoever. She found Harry, in his bed, behind the curtains, studying intensely, and nightly until the wee hours of the morning. She was shocked that he wasn't just studying defense, charms or transfiguration, but all the subjects, including potions. She had been had. He never needed her help. He wanted her involvement.
She watched Harry through his eyes watching her as well, throughout each year. She watched him cry out in pain as she lay motionless in the hospital wing after being petrified. She watched him with the sheepiest grin, and utter content me atop Buckbeat, or Witherwings depending on whose company you're in. The grin wasn't just because of the flying but she was checking him check her out, often looking down at her arms wrapped around him.
She watched his disappointment, as she laid her head on Ron's shoulder when they had thought that Buckbeat had been executed, as well, and realized that maybe that had been the foundation for why his clear interest had been kept to himself.
She watched as Harry had been shot down my Cho, when he asked her to the ball. And watched as he checked her out, coming down the stairs for the ball. She also watched as he intently watched her and Viktor dancing together. She saw the disgust in Ronald's eyes, but couldn't mistake the longing in Harry's eyes for a second.
She watched Cedric die, and cried for the boy and for Harry. She watched in horror as Voldemort was reborn. She also watched with supreme pride in her friend as he faced off Voldemort, causing the PRIORE INCANTANTUM. She watched and listened to the brief conversation with his parents.
She watched Harry's consistent torment and abuse from Umbridge. She also watched Harry watching her continuously and intently when she was helping heal him. She watched their fight in the Department of Mysteries, and the horror on Harry's face as his godfather was hit with a simple stunner, which caused a premature end to his life.
She watched as Harry heard the prophecy for the very first time and watched as his destroyed the headmasters office. She watched as Harry returned to his relatives over and over during this playback of his life, but never registered anything close to defeat until the summer after Sirius died.
The memories of Harry's sixth year were his most disappointing and what he placed in the pensieve showed him always watching her. Watching her angry or distant from him, and the hard part of his struggle was that he was always studious, when everyone went to sleep, always in constant preparation.
She watched the brief relationship with Ginny, and felt her disgust well up in her again. She even caught bits and pieces where she was actually drugging him. The bile made its return to the back of her throat and she had to force it back down. She never felt a hatred of another single person, not even Ronald, until that moment.
She watched the secret meetings with Dumbledore and frank felt them to be a enormous waste of time and energy. She didn't understand the one fundamental thing that was lacking during all of Harry Potter's Hogwart years. Why, if the Headmaster was such a good and honest man, had he not prepared Harry Potter for the imminent battle that was obviously facing against Tom Riddle if he knew that Harry was the only chance of defeating the dark lord.
Everything flashed a bright white for a moment, which momentarily had Hermione confused. She looked around into the abyss for a moment before light faded, and in this room, she sat in front of Harry Potter in a room all by himself.
"Please sit in front of me." He said, solemnly and waited for effect. "Hermione, what I'm doing right now is sitting in a room talking to myself, and more importantly you because I plan to place this memory with the others that, no doubt, you're viewing right now. The sorting hat said that I would do well in Slytherin for a reason. I've hidden my special things that I do, as far as study because I've enjoyed the time and frankly the fuss you've put forth on my behalf for at least my studies. I've not had a nice life, up to this point, as far as the memories that I plan to put into the pensieve. I had never knew what love was, been without it my whole life. At this point, my life was an empty shell and I was hoping to die while taking Tom with me. I never really cared for Cho. Sure she was pretty, but ultimately the person I wanted never really shown me any interest outside of helping me along these lovely adventures," Harry said almost sarcastically. "When you turned your back on my I wanted to sink into myself and die, and I've doubled my efforts in my studies. When I was with Ginny, it was like a monster welled up in my chest ready to bounce at every moment until I called an end to it, and let the potion run it's course.
Harry stood up from the chair that he was sitting in, and started pacing the room back and forth almost like a jaguar inside of it cage. He would go over the same trail over and again, at the same pace. It appeared to help him because after a few minutes at it he finally seemed to settle down, before he came back to his seat and sat down.
"Until a few weeks ago, I didn't know what love was. I'd never been exposed to it growing up and although I had heard it being spoken about periodically throughout my life and never directed to me, I had nothing to gauge it upon."
Everything went white again, and while this was happening she really couldn't tell how much time had passed. When it finally did clear, she found Harry sitting in his bedroom, looking out the window as a witch with a shock of pink hair tripped causing a rather loud snort, which caused every so far(in this story) to happen.
She watched the cute interaction between Harry and Tonks. She watched everything that happened at the Burrow from Harry's perspective. She watched what happened at the bank and the visit to Tonks' mum's home. She watched Harry get those precious memories of his childhood back and learned a devious little nickname.
She sat back and wailed a deep heart-wrenching sob at the realization that the man she had loved before the Amortentia, was head of hells in love with some other woman, and a rather amazingly upbeat, bright, fiercely loyal witch at that. She had lost him, her only friend and the real love of her life. She recognized the utter bliss that he found himself in with her, and the ease in which he found himself in finally getting to be just Harry, when it came to his Nymmy. The scene finally faded to white again.
"Hermione, I'm happy now for the first time because I finally found someone who loves me. I finally know what it is to say that yes I am in love with Nymmy, and you better not let her know I have given you away her nickname, but she's probably already watched this, so I've been dealt with... Well, anyway, but it did remind me of something and I'm sure that you have figured it out by now. Remus didn't call you the cleverest witch of our age, for nothing. I loved you, Hermione, before I knew what love was. I'm sorry that you didn't feel me worthy to love in return." He said finally and quietly.
"Hermione, the password, is 'Books and Cleverness'. He said, with a tired grin before everything faded to black and she felt the pressure of being forced out of the memory.
Tonks Residence
Harry Potter had watched Nymmy walk out of the door with the pensieve. He had taken a good hour write the letter that he had for her, He hoped that she would actually she the courage to take the leap into the memories. They were his memories and he could barely stand the emotional turmoil left in the wake of them.
He sat there now, just minutes after she left and watched in confusion as he saw an eagle owl fly into the room that he had never seen before. It was quite friendly, and didn't pose an immediate threat. It landed in front of him, and presented its leg. Having retrieved the left it promptly left. He opened the letter and to his delight for his friend read it quickly.
Mr. Potter,
Please accept this official invitation, one week from today to celebrate the coming of age for our son, Neville Longbottom. He considers you a friend amongst many, and has claimed that the reason for his many friends is due greatly to knowing you. We would also like to extend our heartfelt thanks to you for everything that you have done for Neville.
Neville explained to us in great detail what his life had been like while at Hogwarts, and mentioned that you had stood up, both, for her and to him on many occasions. Having been dear friends with both your mother and father, we can see the two of them in the descriptions that he has portrayed of you.
Your bravery and conviction from your father matches well with the empathy, endearing friendship and fierce loyalty of your mother. I do hope that you will attend and please send an owl as to your intent.
Sincerely,
Alice Longbottom
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