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Chapter 8 : losing yourself
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Chapter VIII: losing yourself
“Love is never lost. If not reciprocated, it will flow back and soften and purify the heart.” –Washington Irving
“Are you happy Harry?” she asked him, looking up into his eyes as he held her in a tight embrace.
“Of course I am, my best mate woke me up at three in the morning because of her inane fear of thunderstorm— never better,” he sarcastically muttered, rolling his eyes as he slightly pinched her waist.
“I’m serious, Harry,” she said with a rather somber tone that, for some reason, disturbed him far more than that it probably should have.
“Are you happy?” she repeated, her tone a tad bit more forceful the second time around.
He shrugged. “I’m getting there.”
She nodded solemnly, burying her head in his chest upon hearing the thunderstorm outside growing louder. “You should be happy though. I mean it’s been four years since you defeated him Harry… you should have moved on by now.”
“Life’s not perfect, Hermione, you know that.”
“No,” she sighed, “but it’s pretty damn good to us too. You’re twenty-one Harry, finished Auror training, getting some amazing cases… you should be happy.”
“And I will be,” he promised her, albeit unsure of the truth to that statement even as he gave her the empty assurance. He didn’t consider it lying though, no, for her he’d try to get there… he just wasn’t quite sure of how successful he’d be at reaching that ever illusive goal.
“Someday, but for now I have you and Ron… and Ginny.”
“You won’t always be able to rely on us, Harry, one day you’re going to have to learn to support yourself— be happy on your own. You won’t ever be able to make another person happy until you can do that, you know.”
He arched an eyebrow at her. “Are you saying that I don’t make you happy?”
She giggled slightly. “Well I’ve learned to find the light in broody Harry by mocking him, but you might not be so lucky with someone else.”
“Well, for now, I have you so all’s good with the world,” he told her with a charming smile.
“It might not always be that way though,” she muttered into his chest.
The next day was the day that she told him she was leaving.
six months later.
“She’s a whore—a vapid slag, more exactly,” Ron bluntly admitted as he and Harry watched his latest girlfriend talk to a somewhat scared looking Luna.
Harry shrugged, not taking the least bit of offense to the comment. “Never said she wasn’t.”
“Then why are you with her—them?”
“Nothing better to do I guess… and it’s a good distraction—it’s fun, and that’s exactly what I need right now.”
“Bloody hell mate there are tons of better things to do. I mean I get that shagging all of the witches in England has got to be fun… but seriously, don’t you ever get bored of it? In the end it’s just another shag, but who’s there for you when you need company, not just a hand job?”
“I have you for that one,” he told him with a smirk.
“The fuck bunnies aren’t always going to be enough mate.”
Harry turned to him with an amused look. “Fuck bunnies?
“What? I don’t see anything wrong with it—loved the term when Hermione used it, and it was definitely worth a repeat.”
Harry stiffened at hearing Ron’s words. “Hermione? What does she have to do with this?”
“Oh you know, she asked me if you finally had a special lady in your life sicne she noticed you hadn’t mentioned many girls ever since you and Ginny broke up so I told her about some of your latest escapades. You know I had no idea how much she missed out on since she can’t get the Prophet there—that’s some good quality gossip that she was totally unaware of… Anyway, she now refers to your little friends as fuck bunnies.”
“You didn’t have to tell her that,” Harry told him through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched as he tried to control the sudden, but nonetheless potent, urge to strangle Ron.
“Why not? She thought it was funny anyway… well after she apparently got over the initial nausea of your man-whoreness,” he amended with a chuckle.
“Great,” he said with a miserable sigh as he threw his head into his hands, angrily pulling at his hair.
“Cheer up, mate, we’re supposed to be celebrating the fact that I proposed to the Missus last night, not moping.”
Harry rolled his eyes before turning to send Ron a chilling glare. “Well I would be if my best mate didn’t tell Hermione the last thing I ever wanted her to know.”
“Well then you should have been more vocal about that point,” Ron shrugged.
“Oh come on, we should be celebrating. After all, I’m an engaged man now, Luna’s officially stuck with me… plus, you know what else that means, don’t you?” Ron asked him with a conspiratory wink.
Harry eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “No, what?”
“Our dear old Hermione’s finally coming back after three years of being away,” he told him with a jovial grin.
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