As Long As You Love Me

Chapter 2

June, 2005

It was a cold and gray morning, that should have been her first hint.

Unfortunately, nothing could have prepared her for this day, so, as she opened the door to her office and saw Ginny pacing impatiently across the room, her stomach dropped.

It was odd for her to be at the Ministry, especially on her day off. "What are you doing here Gin? What do we have for today Keane?" she asked her assistant, and her old friend stepped closer to her, her hands looking for places to hide in.

"Hermione, sit down," said Ginny as she took a breath, "I'm here because Keane called me, she thought you might need a friend for this." Ginny dragged a chair next to Hermione, sat, and took her hand.

"A friend? What do you mean? What's happened?" Hermione asked, confused with the situation, looking at both of them searching for some clarity. She tore away her hand form Ginny's, her gaze fidgeting between her and Keane. The latter gave Ginny a nod as if encouraging her to talk. Ginny sighed and looked at the ceiling.

"Hermione dear, how have you been feeling these past years?" Ginny asked warily, eying her friend as if she was about to deliver the worst news.

But Hermione still had no clue what was going on. What did she mean how had she been feeling the past years? There was honestly no easy way to answer that.

How had she been feeling?

"Er— fine, Ginny, the war ended and we won, I feel fine." she replied to her friend, convincing herself that that was the truth.

And in a way it was, because Hermione really was very grateful that they had survived. And that her friends had too. Obviously the losses still hurt, almost every day, but she still remembered and loved every person that was gone.

But honestly, how had she been feeling? Well, it depends. If she referred to a certain pain that haunted her like a ghost that a certain someone was to blame for and who then left her to carry with, then she was... Okay. For the time being.

She had moved on form that, and now it was just a memory.

A memory of a boy with blinding blond hair calling her a Mudblood, and then kneeling before her asking for forgiveness for every time he'd done it.

The memory of a boy who had made her feel even more alive than when she got her Hogwarts letter, or when she discovered she was a witch, or when she read her first book.

The memory of a boy who had entirely stole her heart at a very young age, and had just about made her the happiest she could remember, and had gifted her the best smiles, and given her the best love she ever felt.

The memory of a boy who had made her fall for him so hard that when he left, she felt like she no longer had a purpose in this life.

A boy who had completely and utterly shattered her heart into a billion pieces and left her like it was the easiest and the hardest thing he'd ever have to do. She understood him in a way, and resented him in another. How could have he been able to do that to both of them?

But when she looked at the bigger picture, she understood his reasons, his intentions. It certainly didn't hurt less, but somehow it helped her through it. Because every day of her sixth year at hogwarts she's asked herself what had she done wrong, where had she failed, when had she stopped being enough for him.

She almost loathed him as much as she loathed herself in that time. Because even after it had clearly been his fault, for she did not know the whole situation, she'd still loved him.