Jaded (Rewritten)

Chapter Three: Already Gone

Hermione apparated outside her house with a loud crack, the sound ricocheting sharply through the quiet street. She immediately started toward the front door, her steps brisk and purposeful—until her wards shifted.

She stopped cold.

The familiar prickle of magic brushed against her senses, not hostile, but unmistakably present. Hermione closed her eyes for a few seconds, shoulders loosening as she released a slow breath.

"I know you're there, Harry," she said quietly.

Harry stepped out from concealment, hands tucked into his pockets, offering her a small, relieved smile. "How did you know it was me?"

Hermione shot him an incredulous look. "Wards," she replied flatly. "I have plenty of them."

His smile faded. "You left the hospital without waiting for us. We've been looking all over for you."

"You were there?" Hermione asked, scratching the back of her neck—an unconscious, nervous habit she couldn't quite suppress.

Harry folded his arms across his chest. "Of course I was. Ginny sent me a Patronus after she took you to St. Mungo's."

"Oh Merlin—Ginny," Hermione gasped. "I forgot about her."

"You forgot about her, all right," Harry said dryly. "You nearly scared her to death when you keeled over. She was hysterical."

Hermione lowered her gaze, shame creeping into her chest. "I—I was just feeling under the weather, Harry. If you see Gin, please tell her not to worry about me."

Harry studied her carefully—the tension in her posture, the dullness in her eyes. He sighed. "What really happened, 'Mione? We just had lunch. You were fine. Please don't lie to me."

Her throat tightened instantly. Rather than answer, Hermione turned away and unlocked the door, blinking rapidly. "Do you want to come in?" she asked, voice tight.

"Yes," Harry said without hesitation. "We need to talk."

Inside, Hermione flicked her wand, lights blooming softly around the room. She made a beeline for the couch and dropped onto it without ceremony. "Please sit down," she murmured.

Harry followed and slumped beside her.

Hermione leaned her head back against the cushions and closed her eyes, as though bracing herself.

The silence stretched.

Harry waited, then shifted, preparing to stand—assuming she needed space.

"He's having an affair," she blurted out, eyes still shut.

Harry's body went rigid.

Hermione opened her eyes and turned her head slowly to look at him. "I went to your office this afternoon to surprise him," she said bitterly. "I suppose I was the one who got surprised instead."

Harry's expression hardened instantly, anger sharpening his features. "Did you see them?"

She shook her head, tears gathering. "No. But I heard him. Talking to her."

"What exactly did you hear?" Harry asked, fists clenching at his sides.

Tears spilled down Hermione's cheeks as humiliation and fury tangled painfully in her chest. "He—he went to see her the night he told me he had to go back to your office," she choked out.

She wiped her face angrily and shot to her feet, pacing the room. "They've been at it for Merlin knows how long, and I was too stupid to see it. He made a fool out of me, Harry. For the second time!"