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Godric’s Hollow in the light of day was a shocking contrast to the last time he was there. He Apparated to the same spot he had with Hermione five months earlier, and found himself reaching for her instinctively. This was going to be a lot harder without her, but at least she was waiting for him back in the dorms. He needed to do this by himself.
There was sun on his face instead of snow. A little warmth instead of the seeping cold threatening to freeze his tears. Fitting, considering how different the circumstances were now. He took a deep breath as his eyes took in the church, the cemetery, the kissing gate, the spot he knew his parents were. He didn’t need to be here - the Resurrection Stone had proven that his parents were always with him, but there was also a comfort in the physical location of a gravestone. He was sure they knew he and Hermione weren’t officially together at the moment, and he didn’t even know what he was going to say (or what answer he was looking for), but he thought it might make him feel better. After asking Lia for advice instead of Katie, he was starting to worry how lost he really was in this whole situation; in the past, the times he’d spoken to his parents or had been lucky enough to interact with them, the end result always put him in a different headspace than he’d started. Right now, that would be enough.
He and Hermione weren’t the same anymore, and there was a part of him that had only just realized he’d been a little disappointed when she said she found her parents and that they remembered her and everything was good. He tried not to show it, because it wasn’t right. It made his chest tighten uncomfortably and it had been hard to swallow. Anger that had begun simmering, but not towards Hermione. He should be happy for her, and he was, but the bitter, selfish part of him hoped that someone else in his life wouldn’t have parents, either. Misery loved company. He wasn’t that lucky, though.
No, lucky wasn’t the word. Hermione had been devastated to lose her parents, as she should be; it was amazing that she had been able to get them back. That’s what he needed to focus on. It was one less thing for her to be stressed about, so he told that selfish part of himself that she could spend more time with him now, which helped placate the anger a bit.
There was grass under his shoes in place of crunching snow, and everything in the graveyard looked happier somehow. More flowers rested against headstones, more people visiting, but his feet steered him directly to where he needed to go, and before he could think too much about it, there he was, staring at the dead wreath of white roses Hermione had placed there on Christmas Eve. That night had changed so much between them, and now it felt like all of that was dead, too. How appropriate. Harry dropped to his knees and cathartically chucked the wreath in whatever direction felt good and replaced it with a new one, just as he hoped to do with Hermione, and a couple fresh tears stung his eyes. He wiped them away before taking a deep, shaky breath.
“Hi, Mum. Dad,” he started. “Er… I… had a plan, but now that I’m here, I don’t really know what to say.” It felt strange, actually talking to them without seeing them, which weirdly enough, he was used to. Even in the Mirror of Erised, he could see them. See their faces. Kind of interact with them. Now, his voice was met with nothing but silence. There was someone laughing in the distance. A dog barking.
Harry decided to begin again. "Hermione found her parents, and I know I need to be happy for her. I am happy for her. But it hurts a lot, too, because..." He trailed off, not feeling the need to say it. They knew. He shifted to sit down, crossing his legs and rubbing a hand over the small amount of stubble that had grown on his jaw. "I just wish this was easier. I wish all of it was easier, but... I think it's getting there. It's getting easier. I did ask Ollivander about the... the bond stuff, and I think there may be things going on with Hermione, too. Why she's acting the way she is, and I hope it's something we can fix, because I really do want to spend the rest of my life with her. I want to have what the two of you had. I know things aren't going to be perfect and they definitely already haven’t been, but... God, it's so frustrating. I feel like I'm having to wait around for her and wait for her to want things and wait for her to make up her mind because if I don't wait for her, I'll push her and-" Harry cut off. He'd brought it up to Greenwood before, and she told him that he had to decide what was important to him, whether he wanted to fight for it or if he was willing to wait it out. And until he figured it out, he wouldn't get anywhere. Essentially, he'd gathered that there wasn't a right answer, only two outcomes. Maybe this wasn't the best conversation to have with two people who couldn't really provide any input.
"I feel like I'm being selfish, Mum. I don't want to be selfish, because she's been through as much hell as I have, but at the same time, I'm not going to give up my needs for hers. I can't. She wouldn't want me to do that. And we were so good about talking about things before, but recently it's like... I mean, we could read each other before, so maybe we weren't actually talking. Maybe we just knew and now that we don't..." Harry sighed. "This is what I mean. I wish you could give me some damn advice because I don't know who to ask. I guess... I mean, everyone's gotten onto me about asking Katie, but she's not Hermione. How do I know she'll know what to do or know what I'm even talking about?"
"Everyone struggles with that, I think," a voice answered behind him, and he turned his body to find a woman with red hair and kind eyes that definitely wasn't his mother, but for a split second, he thought it could be. "I didn't mean to interrupt; it just sounded like you needed some reassurance." This woman wasn't with anybody, but she was standing at a grave in the row behind him, two over.
"Thank you," Harry said honestly. "Apparently, I've been asking everybody for advice except the person I need to ask, except I haven't figured out who it is I actually need to ask."
"Harry Potter needing advice on girls, huh? I guess the fame only gets you so far," she teased.
"So I'm learning. Being her best friend for eight years doesn't help either, apparently."
The woman grinned. "No, it doesn't. Sometimes that makes it worse. That's something I am a bit of an expert on."
Harry perked up a little. "Really?"
"Mmhmm." She nodded to the stone in front of her. "My husband and I were friends for nearly a decade before he asked me out. And some aspects of things weren't different, but some of them absolutely were. It's easy to think that you already know everything about each other, but in relationships, you learn to know each other so much deeper than you may have as friends. You get to see sides of them you've never really seen before because you've never had to. I think it's much easier for a lover to become a friend than a friend to become a lover."
"And... how did you figure it out?"
"It took some time, but we stopped thinking about each other as friends, because we already knew that, and we started thinking about each other as lovers. And it made things… new."
"New?"
"Yes. It's not a concept couples think about nearly as much as they should, if you ask me. May I come sit with you?"
Harry nodded. "'Course."
The woman took one last look at the stone in front of her and took the handful of steps to Harry, settling down in the same position next to him. "James and Lily. I'm Natasha. I hope it's okay if I speak with your son on your behalf?" She waited for a moment before smiling.
"Can you... hear them?" Harry asked hesitantly. Not that he wouldn't believe it, considering he'd seen them multiple times.
"No, I'm just old," Natasha laughed, "so I feel like I know a bit more about being married than you might." She cut her eyes to him. "You're so much older than your years, Harry. Everyone knows that. And that's both from what you've had to deal with, but also just... who you are. I can tell. You've always been like that, haven't you? Wise. Which is why you're having so much trouble dealing with things that may be a little more age-appropriate. So let's see... am I incorrect to assume you're speaking about Hermione Granger?"
"No."
"Your love for her transcends photographs, Harry. Even moving ones. You have a lot of feelings for her. Not just love."
Harry's eyebrows furrowed. Didn't love encompass everything? Loving her meant admiring her and respecting her and enjoying her company, didn't it? When he asked her, she smiled again.
"In a way, yes. But you've done that for years."
"I still don't understand."
"You haven't loved her for years, Harry. Not actively, anyway. It's a little hard to explain, but I'll do my best. What's one thing you admire about her?"
"She's passionate," he answered instantly. "When she believes in something, it's... it's amazing what she can do. How hard she works to get what she wants. I mean, she's already been taking about working with the Ministry and trying to see how far she can push her name to get laws enacted for creature rights-"
"How very Slytherin of her," Natasha smirked.
"It is, but... there's nothing wrong with that. I mean, she's got fame. Might as well use it."
"Is that what you're doing?"
"God, no," Harry scoffed. "I don't want it." He pulled his knees to his chest and took a deep breath.
"Does she know that?"
"... What?"
"Have you told her? Or does she think that you're going to be fighting for that with her?"
Harry's shoulders dropped. Had he? Had they talked about what they were going to be doing after the summer? Had he been so focused on just getting back together with her that he'd thought they would figure the rest out later? He didn't even know what he wanted to do.
"Thought so," Natasha said. "Now think about that passion in relation to you. How hard is she working to get you?"
"It doesn’t feel like she is," came instinctively, and it made him want to cry. But he held back, realizing if he thought about it, that wasn't the right answer. "I mean, she's working on herself first. To get that out of the way so that she can focus on being with me properly."
"And has she been?"
"I think so. She seems happier. She’s… passively working on our relationship, but not actively, if that makes sense. She can’t at the moment. There's something that's wrong, I think. We have a... kind of a soul bond, and I think it's broken. It's not working like it used to. And we’re trying to fix it but we’re not sure how. We’re not sure what’s wrong. Something happened after the war."
"A lot of things happened after the war, Harry. That bond could just be another casualty. Have you thought about that?"
Harry sighed again, running a hand through his hair. "I've been trying to come to terms with it."
"Which is where my original advice comes into play again. Trying something new. Without anything exciting happening, life can get incredibly dull. I'm sure you've felt that already. And if not, you will. If you just keep on doing the same thing every single day, time will fly by so fast that you won't even realize the last time the two of you went out for dinner or... properly cuddled. The last time you danced together. All of it just... gets lost. That's what's exciting about thinking about new things, though. It takes some pretending in the beginning, but it's kind of fun. Ask her out like you've never met her before. Flirt with her. When you see her, kiss her somewhere besides her lips first. And maybe she'll start to do the same things to you. I think you're trying to act like you've been married for eight years already instead of friends, but if you keep on going like that, things are going to get boring before they become fun."
He thought back to his conversation with Lia. Harry, you've got to realize that things haven't always been like this between you, no matter how much you think they have , she'd said. Once you've seen someone naked, there's no going back from that. You've either got to keep on seeing them naked or stop lying to yourself about how you won't think about it ever again, especially if you're attracted to them. And I mean naked in both the physical sense and the metaphorical sense, and you two have already done both. "Someone else kind of said the same thing to me."
"Which means I must be right. You already love her, don't you?"
"More than anything."
"Then fall in love with her again. Let her fall in love with you again. Prove that you actually want to be with each other because you want to be with each other, not because of something out of your control."
Harry couldn't help but smile. "That's exactly what she said she wanted to do."
"Then why on Earth do you have so many questions? Sounds like the person you need to ask for advice from is Hermione herself. What are you doing wasting all this time?" She smiled back at him like Mrs. Weasley did sometimes.
"Dad would be laughing at me right now for being so stupid," Harry sighed, stretching his legs out a little, careful not to get them too close to the stone.
"I won't tell him if you won't. Do you have your answer, at least?"
He thought for a moment. "Yes. Which is brilliant because it's kind of what I was planning anyway. We never really got to go on dates, so I wanted to start there. Actually our first date’s tonight. Our first real date." He hated admitting it, because the more people he told, the worse it sounded. But not getting to go on dates because you were in the middle of a war was different than purposefully not going on dates.
"Well, I think that's a marvelous idea, and I wish you two the best. Now, help an old woman up, would you?"
Harry stood immediately with a chuckle, reaching out a hand for her to support herself as she stood. "You're not old at all. Not in wizarding years, anyway.”
Natasha let out a laugh, looking at the Potters' grave. "Thank you for letting me talk to your son. You two did a fantastic job. He’s wonderful, if a bit cheeky." She turned to put a firm and reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. "Go tell Hermione you're madly in love with her, and I expect an invite to the wedding. I'm sure your owl can find me."
A blush colored Harry's cheeks, but he grinned and nodded. "Of course."
"And good luck, too. Being with someone the rest of your life isn't always easy, but when it's the right person, it's worth it."
It already has been , he wanted to say, but he had a feeling she could already tell what was on his mind. "Thank you. For all of it. I think that was just what I needed. I guess I'll see you around, then?" he grinned.
"I sure hope so."
He bid one last goodbye to Natasha and his parents before vanishing the dead flowers he threw and heading out of the cemetery with renewed hope in his heart. When he turned back, the woman was gone, but there was an extra flower next to his wreath. Even at this distance, he knew it was a lily.