Eighteen Months Later: The Incident
Title: Eighteen Months Later: The Incident
Author: kanedax
Spoilers: Deathly Hallows
Rating: PG-13 for mild language
Characters: Harry/Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Seamus, (with brief Hermione/Seamus) Neville, Dean, Luna
Summary: After The Incident, Hermione and Harry try to see what’s left
Notes: A quick summary for those who, unlike myself, had a life this weekend: Sixteen Months Later: Titan Arum. Seventeen Months Later: The Last Straw. Somehow between the time I looked at the beginning of the weekend and today, I’ve had, like, a half dozen more people added to my friends list. So, Hi Everybody! *waves frantically*
I’m jumping right into the next chapter after I post this one, and it might even be up by the end of the night. It was all supposed to be one chapter, but things got long, as they usually do, and I decided it worked better to split them up. I don’t own any of these characters (except for Hermione Caroline). JK Rowling does. I just like messing with them.
Seventeen Months Later: The Last Straw / Previous After The Flaw Chapters / Eighteen Months (And A Few Minutes) Later
From Dean Thomas’s now-beaten-up copy of Trodor’s Magical New York City, 1999 edition:
Much like the city itself, the magical communities of New York City are amongst the largest and most diverse in the world. Settlement and immigration patterns have practically mirrored those of their Muggle counterparts since the village of New Amsterdam was founded in 1624. Today there are magical communities located in each of New York’s five boroughs, as well as ethnically dense populations in such neighborhoods as the Lower East Side, Borough Park, and Bedford-Stuyvesant.
While New York City is a major global wizarding center, the fact remains that most touring wizards wish to see the Muggle sights just as much as the North American branch of the International Federation of Wizards (located across the street from the Muggle United Nations building) or the New York Galleon Exchange. The United States Department of Magical Administration recognizes and fully encourages this desire, but also wishes for witches and wizards alike to respect the laws and practices of the International Statute of Secrecy.
As such, United States Aurors (or Men In Black, as they’re called in the states) are stationed at such New York Muggle institutions as Central Park, Times Square, and the Empire State Building. One of the largest Muggle structures in the world, the ESB must be seen to be believed. Built in 1931, it extends 102 stories above the ground, allowing a grand view of the entire landscape without the need of broomsticks or levitation spells.
Due to the overwhelming population density of the city, the visiting wizard may find him or herself at a loss when comfortably traveling through the city. I would personally suggest trying the novelty of the Muggle underground transit system, or subway. There are also large numbers of taxi cabs above the ground, and the friendly, if not always English-speaking, drivers will whisk you off to your destination.
Bear in mind that both the subway and taxi systems require Muggle American currency, which is different than the Muggle British Pound. The helpful staff at the New York branch of Gringott’s in lower Manhattan will swiftly process any money you wish to transfer.
If you do not wish to take advantage of the quaint, if not reliable, Muggle transportation, New York City is home to one of the most convenient and complex Floo Nets in the world. Over three dozen stations are located within the city limits, with twenty more spread throughout the suburban area.
Wizard tourists should not worry about a lack of magical convenience while visiting New York, either. There are forty different hotels catering specifically to your magical needs. The Knight Bus service has been a New York mainstay since its expansion in the early 1700’s. And those wishing for a more scenic evening will be pleased to know that there are many USDMA-authorized cruise ships which circle New York’s islands daily, offering both day and evening tours.
To the average Muggle walking along the shore of Battery Park this brisk December evening, the ship looked like nothing special. Black paint smeared over pockets of rust, the schooner was notable only for the thought that “That fucker’s about five years away from having its charter pulled by the Port Authority. Tops,” before moving on to the more important business of the day.
If the Muggle had been able to actually climb on board the vessel (which they wouldn’t; USDMA-authorized warding spells prohibited any Muggles from boarding without prior approval), they would be singing a different tune. The USS Winterberg, named after the most famous Secretary of Magic to ever come from the tri-state area, was the largest, most popular, and one of the most luxurious magical tourist crafts on the Eastern Seaboard. Enchanted with multiple enlargement spells, the interior of the 50-foot craft felt like a small ballroom, complete with chandeliers and a live swing band in the corner. Windows lined the walls, enchanted to allow an unimpeded view of the New York City skyline for those who wished to sightsee without going out onto the deck above.
Of course, the open bar, with a legal wizard drinking age aligning with the seventeen-year-old age of adulthood, didn’t hurt its popularity, either.
“Oh, God, I’m gonna feel this in the morning,” Seamus Finnegan burped as he set down his glass of firewhiskey.
“Bout time to cut you off, I think,” Neville Longbottom said, reaching across the round table for the bottle, but Seamus pulled it away.
“Nah, I’m not pissed,” he said. “Just a little… tipsy, is all.”
“Your definition of ‘tipsy’ amuses me,” said Luna Lovegood from between the two boys. She took a dainty sip from her own glass, which she had been nursing for most of the night. “One usually doesn’t break into ‘Odo the Hero’ when they’re just tipsy.”
“I’ll be fine, lass,” Seamus said, his Irish brogue coming through more and more as the evening progressed and the alcohol level shrank. “I’m just… it’s gonna be one hell of a Portkey trip.”
“Well, remind me to stand as far away from you as possible,” chuckled Neville.
“Wha’ time do we take off again?”
“Six a.m.,” Hermione Granger said quietly from his other side, her glass nestled in her hand on the table. “Stop off in Iceland, and we’ll be in London by tea.”
Seamus sighed, stretching. “Back to reality, eh?”
“Yeah,” said Hermione. “Back to reality.”
It will be good to get back to reality, Hermione thought as she looked around the ship. Any kind of reality, with my parents and Caroline, will be better than this.
After the explosion that occurred in Peru, things obviously hadn’t been the same among the group of eight former Hogwarts students. The breakup of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley had torn through what had to that point been a mostly friendly, comfortable group.
It began with their trip to Machu Pichu, and continued through their journey up the Gulf of Mexico and along the East Coast of the United States. Hermione and Ron barely spoke three words to each other since The Incident, as she had begun to call it in her own mind. Ron felt just as self-conscious around Harry and Ginny, the former having difficulty looking him in the face, while the latter usually had her wand wrist twitching within thirty seconds of contact with her brother.
Hermione herself was also having difficulty finding a place to fit in. Her time with Harry and Ginny was strained at best. She knew that they sympathized with her, but she also knew that they felt partially responsible for the breakup in the first place. When she was in their presence, the couple separated: released hands, stopped hugging and kissing at night before going to bed like they usually did before The Incident. In fact, Harry had spent every night since in the boy’s tent, not once sleeping in Ginny’s bed like he once did three or four nights a week at the beginning of the tour.
Hermione felt some relief at their gesture, knowing now how Harry must have felt seeing Ron and herself sharing those brief moments before they had even begun dating. But this relief only increased her guilt, as she felt that her mere existence could cause some kind of rift between the last remaining couple on the trip.
Things went from bad to worse two weeks ago, when the group was camping in the Florida Everglades. Hermione had finally been taking advantage of her guard duty, thankful for the excuse to get away from most of her friends, when Seamus decided to, for lack of a better term, “test her availability.”
She understood, of course. She hadn’t made her intentions clear after the breakup. None of them knew if it was permanent or temporary. Hell, she didn’t know if it was permanent or temporary. Every night since she left Ron alone in the tent, she questioned whether she should have ended it in the first place or just given him some sort of ultimatum. Whether he would be able to do what needed to be done, or if he would continue to live his life… well, the way he was living it.
All Seamus knew was that Hermione was a girl who he had been a friend with since they started school. He knew that she was single (since The Incident), that he was single. When he tried to kiss her that afternoon, there was a part of her mind that said “Why not?” She even kissed him back for a moment or two before realizing what she was doing. She quickly pushed the thought aside, and pushed him aside, and nothing else was made of it when the rest of the group returned a few minutes later.
Something had been made of it, somehow, later that night. She wasn’t sure of the specifics. All she knew, hearing from Neville, was that Seamus and Ron had had one hell of a row in the boys’ tent that night, and that Seamus had profusely apologized to her the next day. Since then, she and Seamus had remained cordial, not much different than they had been previously.
After that night, things split even further. Ron spent almost all of his time with Dean and Seamus. Whether it was because they had come to some sort of friendly truce, or because Ron felt that his presence would keep Seamus from taking another chance, she didn’t know. For all she knew, Ron was merely with them because he knew that she would keep her distance as long as he was there.
Faced with ending one relationship in Harry and Ginny, and giving the indication that she was starting another one with Seamus, Hermione had spent most of her time in America with Neville. As the two true scholars in the group, the two who had come on this trip for primarily educational purposes, it was definitely a comfortable fit. Even Luna, who was suddenly the only one with the enviable ability to float between the now three cliques, spent most of her time with the two of them as they toured the Aztec temples, the Louisiana Bayou, and the Appalachian Mountains. Whether this was because she enjoyed their presence, didn’t enjoy the others’, or just wanted to be around Neville more, Hermione never asked. She felt keeping Luna by their side was enough, no matter the reason.
Even Neville, who remained the most gregarious and easy-going of the group, could recognize the growing tensions. In the end, it was he who suggested their departure from protocol for the last leg of their journey.
“I think we do need some civilization,” he had said one night in South Carolina as the eight sat around the campfire for another quiet dinner.
He suggested (using the weather as an excuse) that the group chip in for a few nights in a hotel when they hit New York.
“Rates are pretty reasonable in the Wizard neighborhoods,” Dean concurred. “Plus it will give us a more central location to split out and see whatever.”
In the end, they settled on three rooms in Manhattan. Hermione, Luna, and Ginny stayed in one room, Harry and Neville in another, Dean and Seamus in the third, with Ron switching between the two boys’ rooms depending on the their daily fluctuating mood. Rates, although still cheaper by Muggle standards, were still above the means for most of them. But Harry, probably recognizing the social need as well as the practical, chipped in a small part of James and Lily’s inheritance to cover whatever was needed.
So the past few days had been spent pretty much apart from each other. Neville, Hermione, and Luna spent most of their time visiting the botanical gardens (still lively even in the early stages of winter) and museums of New York while the other five, their ranks growing and shrinking on a whim, ran around some of the more touristy sections of the city.
And still Ron hadn’t spoken to her. And still Hermione had no indication that he had tried to make amends with either Harry or Ginny. And as she looked around the ship, seeing Harry and Dean at a bar in the corner, with Ron nowhere in sight, she wondered what things would be like when they finally returned home.
“So have you thought about what you’re doing when you get back?” Neville asked, as though reading her mind.
“Hmm?” Hermione said, returning from space.
“I mean jobs, living arrangements, that kind of thing?”
“I don’t know,” Hermione shrugged. “Probably just hunt around for a job until something better comes along. Until, you know, I have enough experience to get somewhere important.”
“You’re the smartest girl in our class, Hermione,” said Seamus. “Something’ll come along soon enough.” He patted her leg, probably not even realizing in his drunken haze that he was doing it. Nonetheless, Hermione pushed her chair another foot away from him.
“Are you going to live at home?” Neville continued, trying to be oblivious to Seamus’s action.
“For a little bit,” she said. “Ginny and I were talking about getting a place, but…”
“Things are uncomfortable between you two now,” said Luna. “It’s sad.”
“Yeah,” Hermione said quietly. “Yeah, it is…”
“Well, if you need a place to stay, I’ll always have a spare bedroom,” said Neville, who had moved into a small two-bedroom flat outside Hogsmeade soon after he graduated last year.
“And when I start to look, we can always live together,” said Luna. “If you can stand living with me, that is.”
“That would be nice,” Hermione said, smiling sadly. “Thank you. Both of you. But, I don’t know… My Mum and Dad might want me around. And Hermione Caroline’s getting the hang of walking now, they probably wouldn’t mind an extra pair of eyes…”
“They probably wouldn’t,” said Luna. “But did you forget what we spoke about on the Hogwarts Express? You should not feel obligated to put your life on hold for your sister.”
“I’m not,” said Hermione. “It’s just…” she rested her forehead on her hands. “Things are so much more confusing now. I don’t know what else to do, and I feel safe there.”
“Things don’t have to be confusing.”
“They don’t have to be, but it doesn’t mean that they aren’t…”
“You’re speaking of Ronald?”
“Of course I’m speaking of Ronald…”
“Then that is difficult.”
“Yes, I know, thank you…”
“But he’s not the only difficulty,” Luna continued serenely. “Have you spoken to Ginny and Harry about your problems? About how you feel? About how they feel?”
“No, I haven’t…”
“Why haven’t you?”
“Because they don’t want to hear it,” Hermione sighed. “They feel bad enough about The Incident without me moaning on about it…”
“Do you believe that they feel bad about the breakup? Or about how you feel around them?”
“I… what?”
“Maybe you should speak to them. Harry’s right over there, but I do not know where Ginny is.” Luna pointed back to the corner, where Harry and Dean continued an animated, yet friendly, silent discussion.
Hermione looked at Luna, her head feeling fuzzy. “I… what am I supposed to talk to him about again?”
“Whatever comes up,” Luna said, sipping her firewhiskey.
“Go on,” said Neville. “Take a break from us sad, drunken sots.”
Hermione looked around the table, then up to the corner. I told Ron he should mend some bridges, Hermione said, flinching at the mixed metaphor. But I guess I’ve burned a few myself in the process.
She stood up and made her way through the crowd over to the corner. Harry Potter and Dean Thomas stood leaning against the wall-attached bar, their drinks set on identical cardboard coasters.
“Keyshawn was fantastic!” she heard Dean say as she approached. “I mean, I love the guy, but that fourth quarter was just…”
“And he suddenly becomes a Jets fan,” snorted Harry. “What happened to West Ham?”
“Hey, don’t get me wrong, our football’s the best,” said Dean, taking a sip. “Blows the pants off American football any day. But it’s still fun to dabble, you know?”
Hermione suddenly wrapped her head around what was sounding to her like a foreign language. Harry, Dean, Seamus, and Ginny had hopped a bus this morning out to New Jersey to watch an American Football game. This was just a discussion of the results.
“I will admit Miami had a chance there at the end,” said Harry. “Hell of a game. Still doesn’t hold a candle to Quidditch, though.”
“See, I’ve never gotten Quidditch, myself,” said Dean. “It’s a sport, sure. But it’s not really, you know, athletic, is it?”
“Oh, and what do you mean by that?” said Harry, quickly coming to the defense of his favorite sport.
“Well, I mean, we fly around on brooms and throw a ball,” Dean shrugged. “There’s no running. No physical exertion. It’s just like, you know, NASCAR. Or polo.”
“Polo?” Harry said, exasperated (but Hermione could still see the smile on his face, so she knew that he wasn’t really angry). “You’re comparing Quidditch to a bunch of guys running around on horseback with hammers?”
“Horses, brooms, same difference,” shrugged Dean as Hermione set her drink behind Harry. “It’s still all letting others do the work for you. Hell, badminton’s more of an athletic competition than Quidditch.”
“Have you ever tried flying around on a broom?”
“I was on your team, Harry.”
“Yeah, I know,” smirked Harry. “I’ve seen you play, so I’ll repeat the question: Have you ever tried flying around on a broom?”
“You son of a bitch,” Dean said, aghast. “Oh, hey, Hermione.”
Harry spun around, noticing for the first time that she was behind him. “Hi,” he said, the smile wiping from his face.
“Hi,” Hermione replied, suddenly wishing that she hadn’t joined in.
“Oi! Thomas!” Seamus yelled from across the room. “West Ham United sucks tit!”
“Okay, and now that’s definitely my cue to leave,” Dean said, grabbing his drink. “I’ll try to keep the hooliganism to a minimum, I promise.”
“No bloodshed,” Harry said, but Dean only chuckled and patted Harry on the back as he went to join Seamus, Neville, and Luna at their table.
Harry and Hermione stood in silence, staring out the enchanted window at the New York skyline. The minutes ticked by, and Hermione tried to force herself to say anything. But Harry spoke first.
“Nice night, isn’t it?”
“Are you mad at me?” Hermione blurted out, as though the break of the quiet was some cue, even if it had nothing to do with anything.
“What?”
“I’ve done a lot of stupid things the past month, and… and I’ve ruined everything between the three of us, between the four of us, and…”
“Why would I be mad at you?”
“Well, beyond the fact that I’m killing your relationship with Ginny…”
“But you’re not…”
“Yes, I am,” she said. “You two are always… I don’t know. You’re not who you were before I… you know…”
“Vague that up a little, could you?” said Harry.
“Do you still love her?”
“Of course I do…”
“Because whenever I see you two, you’re… you know… not… together…”
“And we’re doing that by choice,” said Harry. “Hermione, we’ve both been where you are. We know what it feels like to see the whole public display of affection thing after a breakup. So we’ve decided to tone it down a little because we care about you. Doesn’t mean that we don’t love each other any less.”
Hermione felt the weight on her heart lessen slightly. But only slightly.
“And I’m not mad at you for breaking up with Ron, either,” Harry continued before she could ask.
“You’re not?”
“Little berk had it coming,” he said, taking a sip of his butterbeer.
“Little?” Hermione said with a small chuckle. “Harry, He’s both taller and older than you.”
“Doesn’t make him any less of a berk, though, does it?”
“So you think I made the right choice?”
“At the time, yes.”
“That I should move on with my life…”
“Absolutely.”
“That I’m better off with out him.”
“No.”
“Wait… what?”
Harry sighed, setting his drink down. “Ron and I have been talking since you two broke up. A lot. I’ve been his best mate since we were eleven, but we’ve never really… talked, you know? We’ve said more to each other in the past month than we have in the past eight years. Gotten a lot of piled-up shit out of the way. I’ve seen more of him than I ever have, and that includes the night with the locket.”
“The locket…”
“Has he told you about it yet?”
Hermione shook her head. “He told me… something. But I don’t think he was telling the truth. What happened?”
“I can’t tell you that,” replied Harry. “I promised him I wouldn’t say anything, and I still hold to that promise.”
Hermione nodded, knowing that she shouldn’t have expected anything less. Glad that Harry didn’t buckle. “So he’s talked to you, then?”
“Yeah, he has.”
“About you and Ginny.”
“Among a lot of other things, yeah.”
“What did he say?”
“That’s also between us,” said Harry. “But just know that we’re not mad at each other anymore. It reflected a lot of my fears from when I was first discovering my feelings for Ginny, and I was glad Ron and I were both able to get it out on the table and come to some understanding.”
Hermione nodded, but continued to stare into her drink. Harry put his hand on her shoulder.
“You made the right choice in breaking up with him,” he said. “If you asked him, he’d say the same thing. It knocked some sense into him. Forced him to open some doors that he had been afraid to open. And I think he’s going to come out the other side a better man because of it. For both of you.”
Hermione reached over and wrapped Harry in a fierce hug. Harry gave as good as he got, running his hand through her hair as she pressed her cheek into his shoulder.
“I love you, Harry Potter,” she said, her voice muffled.
“I love you, too, Hermione,” Harry replied.
“You’re my best friend, and I shouldn’t have waited this long to… it’s just been so hard…”
“I know,” Harry said, chuckling. “Believe me, after all of the years of me not coming to you for romantic advice, after thinking that I could figure it out on my own, I know.”
Hermione snorted into her shoulder. “Noble and stupid, right?”
“Noble and stupid,” he said, kissing her on the forehead before she pulled away, wiping tears from her eyes.
“So where is she, anyway?” Hermione asked.
“Ginny?” he replied, and Hermione nodded. “Up on the deck with Ron.”
“So they’ve talked too, then?”
“Talked? No,” Harry said. “Actually, talking is more like. As in, right now is when Ron’s trying to do the amends thing with her.”
“Oh, dear…”
“Yeah, I have the Episkey spells and a whole load of Nosebleed Nougat antidotes ready, just in case.”
“Your girlfriend,” Hermione said, a small smile on her face.
“Gotta love her,” Harry sighed. “I think it should be fine, though. Do you want to go up? Get some air?”
“No,” Hermione said, shaking her head.
“Are you sure?”
“No,” Hermione said, laughing and sobbing at the same time. “I don’t know if I’m ready…”
“Well, how about this?” Harry said as he and Hermione walked back to the table. “I’m going to grab my jacket, and I’m going to go upstairs. Now if I grab your jacket, that will pretty much assure that you have to come upstairs at some point before we leave.”
“You’re really not going to let me get out of this, are you?” Hermione said.
“No. Because I think you’re ready. At least, you know, ready enough to see what happens between Ginny and her brother. You can decide on how ready or not ready you are after that. Deal?”
Hermione sighed, grabbing her coat from her chair. “Deal. Bastard.”
“We’ll join you in a few minutes,” Luna said from the table, and Neville gave her a quick look before Hermione and Harry pulled on their coats and ascended the stairs to the upper deck of the ship.
Hermione felt a moment of double disorientation as she broke through into the darkness. The first was the simple fact that her eyes had to adjust from the lit cabin below to the night sky. Even with the New York skyline glowing down on them through the falling snow, it still took her some time before she could see anything.
After that, it was the difference in size that threw her. While enlargement enchantments were placed on the interior of the cruise ship, the fact remained that they were much more difficult, and easier to detect, when placed on an outdoor surface. The deck of the Winterberg looked cleaner and more secure than the Muggle-repellant charms made it appear, it was still only a fifty-foot boat’s worth of deck, at least a third of the size as the lower holds would allow her to believe.
As her eyes adjusted to the dark, Hermione scanned the deck for any sign of Ginny or Ron among the dozen or so witches and wizards lining the railing.
“There they are,” whispered Harry, tapping her on the shoulder and pointing.
The scene before them made Hermione’s heart swell. Almost a mirror image of where she and Harry had been just minutes before, Ginny and Ron were holding each other in a warm embrace, Ron’s hand on the back of her head, Ginny’s arms around his waist. She saw Ginny’s lips move, and saw Ron nod in affirmation.
“Guess we won’t need those Episkeys after all,” said Harry. “Unless she’s just setting herself up to toss him into the water, I can’t tell.”
Ginny and Ron pulled away from each other, and Ginny turned her head toward the stairs. Noticing Harry and Hermione standing in the entrance, she raised her hand in greeting, and Ron turned to see them. Hermione felt her breath stop, as it was the first time they had even looked at each other since The Incident.
Ginny turned back to Ron. Said something to him. He said something back. She nodded, and walked toward Harry and Hermione. Ron turned around, leaning against the railing, his back to them, and his face toward Battery Park.
“Hey,” Ginny said, taking Harry’s hand.
“Hey,” said Harry. “How’d it go?”
“Good. He wants to talk to you,” Ginny said to Hermione. “If, you know… if you want to.”
“I do,” Hermione whispered, nodding. “I do.”
“Do you want us to stay?” Ginny asked, taking Hermione’s hand in her other. “Or would you rather we go downstairs?”
“It’s up to you,” Hermione replied. “But if you want to… be nearby, it would help.”
“We’ll be over on the other side,” Harry said, nodding toward the front of the boat. “If you need us, just call or come over, okay?”
Hermione nodded, the swell of gratitude toward her two best friends nearly overcoming her. Instead of speaking, she turned back to New York City, and began to walk toward the man she loved above all others.
Seventeen Months Later: The Last Straw / Previous After The Flaw Chapters / Eighteen Months (And A Few Minutes) Later