My Heart Remembers Differently

UNEXPECTED WHISPERS

After a few hours of researching, I had fallen asleep on the couch in front of the fire.  My mind was still working on variations of potions and spells as I slept.  Except for the part of my subconscious constantly banging against the door to the Forgotten in my brain.  Wait.  Was that a crack?

In my mind, my dream-self is trying to pick the lock to the massive wooden door in my mind I associate with the memories that had been either locked away or lost.  I was using a device I had seen many times watching television shows with my parents.  It was something I had no idea how to use and my attempts to pick the lock were clumsy and frustrating.  I finally gave up with a stomp of my foot glaring at the huge door. 

I shrugged and pressed my ear to the door straining to hear something.  All I heard was my own breath and what I suspected was the beat of my own heart.

Thump.  Thump.  Thump.

Hermione...

My heart rate increased at the sound of my name coming from behind the door.  I could barely hear each syllable and could not recognize the tone of the voice to figure out who it was.

Hermione...

I struggled against the surface of the door.  I pushed my ear closer and strained to hear more.  I didn't know whose voice it was, but something inside of me reacted.  I felt tears falling down my face because of the desperation I felt inside to get to that voice.  I begged the door to open, but it remained firmly closed.  Completely impenetrable. 

"Hermione."  The sound of someone calling my name from outside of the dream world caused me to open my eyes with a gasp.  The sight of his concerned face over mine was as comforting as the warm fire in the fireplace and the knitted blanket I suppose a house elf had placed over me. 

"Harry."  I said and the feel of his name on my lips caused an anxiousness that confused me.  He knelt down beside of the couch.  His fingers wiping at the tears on my face and my breath catches at the familiar feel. 

Wait.  What?  Was that a memory? 

"Seriously, Hermione.  I have seen enough of your tears to last me a lifetime."  Harry muttered.  Wait.  That was from the night Ron left us in the tent.  Harry had something very similar to those words, except he had called Ron a prat and told me that no one should cause that much pain to another person with a haunted look in his face.  I had known he was talking about the pain he had caused Ginny when he had broken things off with her.

"I was dreaming."  I explained looking up at his face that was so familiar.  Unlike Ron, who had still been healing from the various injuries from the battle, Harry's bruises has faded and he had a haircut.  He was wearing new glasses.  I smiled up at him and was startled when I saw the concern in his eyes.

"What were you dreaming about?"  He asked as I sat up.  He didn't get up and sit on the couch with me, instead he moved to the armchair closest to the fireplace.

"It's silly."  I said shaking my head before pulling my hair away from my face.  

"No, tell me."  Harry urged.  I frowned a little at the strange look in his eyes. 

"Really, it was nothing.  I suppose I am trying to remember what I have forgotten.  I keep dreaming of a locked door.  I know if I can unlock the door I will remember everything."  I shook my head, feeling the frustration of not knowing what happened.

"Hermione, you need to stop."  Harry said firmly.  I looked up at him and he looked worried.  "The healer from St. Mungo's said that if you have been cursed, and you try to push past the barrier that you could do more damage to your mind.  You are known as the "Brightest Witch of this Age", Hermione.  Do you really want to scramble you brains trying to remember things best forgotten?"  Harry reasoned.  

"Harry, I need to know.  The last thing I remember was laying on the cot in the tent crying because Ron had left us in the forest.  What happened?  Ron said that Voldemort was dead.  That must mean we found every Horcrux."  I stopped talking and looked at him with worried eyes.  Harry sighed and then smiled.

"I know that I was the Horcrux he never meant to create.  Voldemort performed the killing curse on me in the Forbidden Forest and I came back to life."  Harry explained.  I let out a cry and leaped from the couch to Harry's lap hugging him tightly as fear clutched my chest.  His arms around me were hesitant, but then strong.  "Hermione, I am alive.  I defeated Voldemort and he is the one who is dead.  Stop trembling.  It is all over now."  Harry whispered into my ear.  I sat up and looked down at him. 

"I need to know what happened to me."  I tell him in a desperate tone.  "I have to know, Harry."  I pushed myself off of his lap and walked over to the pile of books I had checked out from the library.  They had tumbled from my leap across the room.  I restacked them and folded the parchment where I was writing my notes and research before turning back to Harry who was staring at the fire like I had given him the chore of killing Voldemort again.

"Please, Harry."  I begged quietly.  He turned to look at me with haunted eyes.  Like the story he had to tell would change everything.  My heart began to pound again with anticipation and maybe anxiety.  If the story was as bad as Harry made it seem, perhaps my knowing would cause more pain than not knowing?

No.  This was something I needed to know.  I am not sure how well I can move on with my life if I do not know the whole story.  

"Hermione, it is all over.  I don't see how going over those events will help you.  The summary is we won."  Harry said standing up.  For someone who won the war, Harry didn't look too victorious.  He looked lost and sad until he realized I could see his face and then he changed his expression. He looked resigned.

"You are keeping something from me."  I knew I was speaking truth.  Harry looked at me with a stubborn expression I am very familiar with.  "Harry, it is my life.  I deserve to know what happened."  I try to reason with him.

"It is not only your life, Hermione. It was mine, too.  Maybe the thought of reliving those memories are too hurtful for me, too."  He snapped.  He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.  "I have to go.  I have a meeting with Professor McGonagall and Shacklebolt."  Harry said.  He moved to the door of the tower and looked back at me with pleading eyes.  "Hermione, please.  Give me time, okay.  I haven't processed everything myself.  I have been from meeting to interview back to meetings.  Not to mention I have been helping the Auror's office find Death Eaters trying to start another uprising."  Harry said.  I felt bad for bothering him.  He did look exhausted and tired.

"Have you thought about coming back to finish your seventh year?"  I asked him deciding to change the subject to give him some space from memories that seem to haunt him.  Harry smiled.

"I wasn't."  He said with a shrug.  "The ministry has asked that I consider it because it sends a message to the parents of upcoming students and to reassure parents that I consider my education the upmost importance."  He tells me.  I snorted.  Scholarly has never been Harry's personality.

"Ah, the lies of the Chosen One."  I said with a smile.  Harry's smile faltered for a moment before he nodded and walked out of the common room.

"Hermione..."

I gasped and looked around.  It was the same voice from my dream.  This time, I am sure it is a memory.  The pain in my heart when the whisper sounded was like a knife.  I hugged myself and looked back at the door that Harry had just closed behind him as he left.  The answers I needed to keep my sanity was inside of his head.  Perhaps I should study the art of Legilimency.  Harry was never good at keeping anyone out of his head.