Work Text:
The camera starts filming, pointing at a hardwood floor, a teenager's voice heard as a door opens.
“Mum?”
The camera moves, now filming a lush green carpet, the faint sounds of a crackling fire in the background.
“Hello darling?” A woman’s voice speaks, filled with softness and love. “What do you- Oh…” The voice takes on a note of insecurity and sadness. “So you were serious?”
“I was, I am. You said you’d have time today.”
“And I do, but I didn’t…” The voice hesitates, the camera still pointing to the floor. “You’re absolutely sure this is a good idea?”
“I am.” The camera moves slightly. “I really think the story needs to be preserved.”
“I know… I probably should have seen this coming when you got that camera, huh?”
“It’s something I can do for wizarding kind, for you and for dad and dad, and I, I understand why you don’t want to talk to a stranger, but I’m not a stranger, and-”
“Do you promise me Arthur, that this won’t leave the house until I either say it’s okay, or we’re all dead and gone?”
“I do.”
“Good.” The camera moves. Hermione is sitting in an armchair, a wall of deep brown bookcases overstuffed with books behind her. She’s wearing a black turtleneck, her curly hair halfway up in a clip, spilling down her shoulders. She’s barely wearing makeup, teeth biting into a pink lip as she’s clearly deep in thought. “Good…”
“Just tell the story mum,” The camera moves, Arthur sitting down too, Hermione’s upper body in the shot. “Tell it like you’d tell it to me.”
“Right...” Hermione smiled, sadness in her eyes. “Well, this is what I remember from the summer of 98. It was after the war, and… It was… It was quiet, and scary. That’s the main thing, when I look back at it now, that feeling of emptiness. We had been on the run for months, Harry, Ron and I, almost an entire year.”
Hermione sighs.
“We had done things, dad especially, that no teenager ever should. It felt like we didn’t have a choice, and what we did had to be done, but… I’d follow Harry anywhere, fight to the death for him, which very nearly happened, do anything to keep him safe, but, looking back… We were kids, children no matter how we felt, and, I’d never…”
Hermione glances behind the camera, eyes focusing, a determined look on her face.
“I couldn’t imagine ever putting you or your siblings or anyone in that position.” She smiles, motherly love in her eyes, a sigh leaving her.
“To have anyone do what Harry did, what he was forced into. He’s amazing, the absolute bravest man I know, but it broke him, defeating Voldemort. We were at the battle of Hogwarts, and then, all of a sudden, it was just… Over.”
Hermione touches her thumb, picking at her pale pink nail polish as she continues.
“I remember… I knew that we were supposed to be safe, but… With everything we had gone through, how do you, how do you make yourself believe that? The war was over, done, finished, but I couldn’t, we… Couldn’t.”
Hermione manages to get some of the polish off, a flake falling to the floor.
“We slept that summer. Slept like we hadn’t slept in years. Grandma, Molly, brought us home with her, let us stay in Ron’s childhood bedroom. We went to the funeral we could, but Harry was so… He barely left the house, barely left the bed. I think Grandma wanted me to be with aunt Ginny, but I couldn’t fathom not staying with the two of them. We weren’t… Together, together, all of us, at least not yet, but I think. I know you know that dad and I had figured it out before the battle, and I think, a part of me always knew that Ron and I would be a couple, but, what I didn’t know was that… Well, Harry’s always been there, always… He was a part of us, a part of me, a part of Ron. I’ve been called bright my entire life, but I hadn’t noticed, hadn’t seen how much dad and dad needed each other, romantically as well, hadn’t… Figured out that what Harry and I shared was, well…”
Hermione smiles, fond and sad, clearly heavy with emotions.
“I wish I could tell you exactly when it shifted, when we went from what we were to what we became, but I think dad is the only one who truly knows, since he’s the one who made the decision. Ron, he… Harry has always had nightmares. It’s how he processes, and he… Harry tried to be brave, in his own stupid, self destructive way where he loves you so much he pulls away, denying himself comfort in a misguided attempt to protect…”
Hermione sits up straight, getting back to her story.
“From my perspective, it just… Happened, one night. We were all sleeping in the same bed, Harry in the middle. I woke up because he was having a nightmare, thrashing around. He was drenched in sweat, breathing heavily, apologizing over and over, telling us how he didn’t deserve us, that we didn’t have to stay with him, and then, there, in the dark, I saw Ron kiss him, calming him down, and it just…”
Hermione looks at Arthur.
“It was right, more right than anything I had ever seen. Harry tried to talk, to say something, but I kissed him too, knowing that it was what he needed, what we needed, what we all needed, and we went back to sleep. Dad told me, months later, that he figured he was in love with Harry too when he destroyed a piece of Voldemort's soul, they had just nearly drowned and-”
Arthur gasps, and Hermione pauses, her brown eyes filled with concern. “Is it too scary?”
“They almost drowned? I never heard-”
“They did, but Ron saved dad, got him out before anything could happen. We’re all here, and we won’t leave you.”
“I know…” Arthur has a note of hesitance in his voice, but also determination. “Continue.”
“Dad saw a vision, showing him all the things he was the most scared of, and that included… It’s going to sound bizarre, but me and Harry kissing.”
“What?”
Hermiione smiles, a fond look of love in her eyes.
“Why would that-”
“Because he was scared I’d pick Harry over him, and, as he told me, that Harry would pick me too. That he’d lose both of us to each other.”
“That’s…”
“Stupid? Knowing what we know now?” Hermione chuckles, leaning back in her chair. “Very, but we were just 17, children, unsure and afraid. He and dad talked about it, not telling me until they couldn’t keep it in anymore, but I think that’s what made Ron realize that he didn’t just need one of us, what gave him the courage to kiss Harry that night.”
Hermione smiles, clearly thinking back at an important moment for her, before growing somber again.
“It got a little easier, after the kiss, but…” Hermione sighs. “I remember staying up at night, sick with worry, trying to figure out what we should do. Ron had been so brave taking the first step, so I wanted to be the one who made the next move, who helped Harry with his sorrow, and really, with everything… The Burrow had started to feel too small, like we were suffocating, like time was running out, and-”
Hermione bites her lip, clearly trying to decide how to tell the story.
“I don’t know what we would have done if they hadn’t cleared Sirius's name postmortem, the official deed to Grimmauld Place literally dumping into our lap during breakfast, a Ministry Owl delivering it. It was the first time Harry had shown any interest in anything in weeks, so naturally, we had to act on it. We moved in, and worked on putting it back to order. I still didn’t know what to do, but I knew that I wanted to make a difference, and that if I wanted to change anything, there couldn’t be any doubt about me deserving my position, so I made a deal to finish my Hogwarts education by owl.”
Hermione sighs, leaning her head on her hand. “I realize what this sounds like, from the position I’m in now, sitting here as Minister. I didn’t start out with that ambition, I didn’t plan a takeover from the start.”
“I don’t think anyone would think that.”
“I’m glad to hear your innocence is still somewhat intact.” Hermione smiles, but she still sits with her head on her hand, leaning on it. “The fact that the Ministry was rotten to the very core isn’t relevant to the story I’m trying to tell anyway.”
She sits up straight, getting ready to continue talking.
“Moving into Grimmauld, it was- I think it was really healing for dad, to do something with his hands, to take back a tiny bit of Sirius's legacy for himself. What really broke him back open was when we went to Godric's Hollow, emptying out the house, making sure it couldn’t be used by others ever again.”
Hermione bites her lip.
“I remember, the day we went, just… standing there with dads childhood toys and clothes and all these… This proof that he had been so loved, that your Grandma and Grandpa wanted him so badly. The photo albums are hidden away here in my office, so dad can’t stumble upon them, but if you want to see them, I can find them for you.”
“Not right now mum.”
“Right.” Hermione sighs. “After that, Harry got a bit better, while I was really falling apart.”
Hermione shakes her head.
“I… I knew that obliviating my parents would have consequences, that…” Hermione cuts herself off, a sad look on her face, her lips in a thin line. “Can we stop? For today?”
“Of course mum. We absolutely can.”
The picture shakes, Arthur fiddling with the buttons, and then, the screen goes black.