Empty Spaces

Chapter 1

Harry sighed and sent the owl off with his reply. It was another one he didn't recognize, which he took to mean that Hermione wasn't staying with the Weasleys this summer. Wherever she was, he hoped she was okay, although it very much sounded like she wasn't.

He wasn't either.

After the battle, with nowhere to go and no plans for a future he didn't think he would live to see, he ended up back in Grimmauld place, a haunting reprise of his godfather's final years. Returning to the Dursleys had briefly crossed his mind, but he found he couldn't face them or ask anything more of them. He was an adult now, ready or not, which meant he was no longer their burden to bear. Ron's family had promptly invited him to stay with them, but it felt too invasive, so Harry politely declined. After everything they had done and sacrificed for him, the least he could do was let his best friend's family grieve properly in peace.

So he ended up back in London, alone, with no real plans for whatever lay ahead. He turned down some offers from the Ministry, feeling like he just didn't have it in him to deal with politics any longer. He also ignored a whole slew of letters from various people, ranging from mild acquantances to people he'd never even met, and eventually the sheer volume slowed before they ceased coming altogether. He actually did put some effort into keeping in touch with a few people– Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna... But each had their own grief to deal with, and the letters ceased here too.

He figured he should at least attempt to clean himself up or try to make the kitchen semi-presentable before tonight. Both seemed like annoyingly daunting tasks to complete, so he settled for showering– he even shaved– and haphazardly shoved the dirty dishes into the sink before wiping off the table. The thought of bringing Kreacher back from Hogwarts to help him with the house had crossed his mind (more than once), but like everything else that summer, he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

Evening rolled around and Harry opened the door to reveal a rather distressed-looking Herminone who was clearly trying and failing to hide her anxiety.

"Hey, come on in, what's going on?" Harry ushered her inside. "You know you can just show up here at any time, you don't have to ask..."

"I know, I know, I'm so sorry, but I couldn't bring myself to just turn up at your doorstep without saying something first... Happy birthday, by the way, Harry, I'm so sorry my present was late, I just– I–"

"Hermione," Harry took her hands firmly in his own, a reassuring gesture rather than a romantic one, "Hey. It's okay. Just... come inside first. It's okay. Come on..."

She took a few breaths and followed him into the kitchen.

"I'll just... put some tea on then...?" Harry said, not really knowing what else to offer and suddenly rather self-consious of the fact that he had spent a good amount of the summer living off cereal. Hermione just gave him the tiniest of grateful smiles and together, they spent a few minutes in silence digging up tea bags and setting on the kettle. At last, when they were seated at the kitchen table, clutching steaming mugs in their hands, she finally spoke again.

"I'm so sorry, Harry, but I didn't really have anywhere else to go," she started, eyes cast down at the table.

"I thought you went to find your parents?" Harry ventured. She nodded, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"I did, and I found Mum and Dad... Brought them home... But they were so hurt when they found out what I had done to them... we had a terrible row about it. I understand where they're coming from, I would be livid if I were them," she sniffled. "They understood, too, once I explained everything to them, but understanding doesn't make it any better. I used my magic on them, manipulated them... what other choice did I have?? What else could I have done??? I kept them safe, that was what mattered most at the time and still matters now... they're not mad at me anymore, they are grateful and understanding, they really are... but still... they will never look at me the same way again. I've broken their trust... I know it, they know it... I think it's better if I just... keep my distance for now..." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, "They love me and I love them... it's just..."

"Different now," Harry finished. Everything was different now.

"I'm so sorry, Harry, but I don't have anyone else I can ask," she said, getting anxious again. "Would it be alright with you if I stay with you, at least for a day or two? Until I can find a place to stay before school starts?"

"What? Why do you even-- you know my answer is yes–"

"It's so much to ask–"

"Not when it's you–"

"Just for a day–"

"No, for as long as you need–"

"You really mean it...?" She finally looked up, wiping her eyes once more.

"Of course," Harry said, now starting to internally kick himself for neglecting their friendship all summer. He hadn't been okay. It turns out she hadn't either. Was anybody okay? They had done everything they were "supposed" to– they won the war. So why was nobody okay?

They sat in silence for a while, staring at their mugs of cooling tea.

"Are you going back?" Hermione asked finally, "To school?"

"I don't know," Harry replied before he could help it.

"I think you should," Hermione replied, starting to sound like her usual self again. "It'll be good for you, and your future career. And... Harry, honestly, I think it'll just be good for you all around..."

Harry half scoffed, half smiled. He knew exactly what she meant. But it didn't make him any more enthusiastic about going back. Returning to school would mean returning to people– their questions, their expectations... Everyone expected the world from him, but nobody ever seemed to stop and ask what he wanted. Rightfully so, he supposed, for he didn't even know what he wanted.

"You don't have to decide for another week, more than that," she said finally, getting up and taking her empty mug to the sink. "Just... think on it, okay? And... thank you. Really, I mean it, thank you Harry..."

Having Hermione for a roommate turned out to be a rather significant improvement, although Harry had to admit that anything was an improvement from whatever he had going on before. He still hadn't broached the topic of Ron– he suspected that she might eventually, but for now, he was content to just let sleeping dragons lie. It was a tentative peace, but a peace nonetheless. And despite the long, slow hours, the days were passing quickly. Hermione had already gone to Diagon Alley for her books and supplies, while Harry found himself still unable to make a decision.

"You don't have to finish the term, you know," Hermione said suddenly one evening, August 15th looming uncomfortably close. "I know you. You always see things through to the end. You've always had to. But I think it's worth mentioning... it's okay to start just for the sake of starting. You're under no obligation to finish. If Hogwarts doesn't have what you're looking for right now, it'll be okay to leave."

It was such an odd thought– being allowed to quit. Harry had never considered himself a quitter. He never lost, he never left-- these just... weren't options when one is Harry Potter. And it was this, more than anything, that drove his final decision to return to school. Choices had always been a luxury he felt he never had. But now the war was over. For the first time in his life, he could ask himself what he wanted.

Do I want to return to school?

I don't know. But it's my choice to go. And it will also be my choice to leave, should I decide it's not the right place for me.

He went to Diagon Alley the next day, McGonagall's list in hand.