Written for the QLFC, Finals, Round 1

Team: Pride of Portree

Beater 2 Prompt: The Time Traveller's Wife — Audrey Niffenegger

Optional Prompts:

3. [dialogue] "What, have you changed your mind now?"

9. [emotion] Disgust

15. [quote] 'It's time to say goodbye, but I think goodbyes are sad and I'd much rather say hello. Hello to a new adventure.' — Ernie Harwell

Word count (not including AN): 2279

(This is AU...obviously…)

Missing Each Other

(Year One—Harry and Hermione Meet)

Hermione: It's my first year at Hogwarts, and for the bookish sort, this is an opportunity to not pass up.

Finding myself a seat on the Express, I look around excitedly. Students start to trickle in (I'm early, of course), and most find other students they are already acquainted with. I observe quietly, but I soon fear that Hogwarts will be just like my Muggle school: lonely.

The door to the compartment opens, and a pudgy boy with brown hair timidly walks in. "Um, hi there. Neville Longbottom," he forces out, sticking a hand out to greet me. After I introduce myself, he asks, "Have you seen a toad? I can't find my toad, Trevor."

Excited about the possibility of making a new friend, I jump up. "I haven't seen a toad, but I'll help you look!" The expression of gratitude on Neville's face gives me hope.

Together, Neville and I look into each compartment, opening doors and receiving irritated looks as we searched for Trevor. We finally reach one with two other first years; a red-headed boy who resembles some other students we've already seen and—

"Harry?" I smile and hurry to his side. He looks at me, confused.

"Yes, I'm Harry. What's your name?" His broken glasses slip down his face, and he pushes the frames back up.

I should have expected this. Harry Potter has been in my life for quite a few years. He's the one who showed me magic for the first time. However, my Harry was a bit older and a bit more broken than this younger version.

He seems to wise up quickly, though. "You...you've met me before?"

I nod. I don't know how much the other two know about Harry's condition, so I ask him, "Remember the day in the park?"

Harry: I immediately realize what this girl, this bushy-haired, buck-toothed girl, is doing. "Oh yeah! Hyde Park, wasn't it? We went through there after my cousin's birthday trip to the zoo a while back." Whew. That was close. Now...who is she?

"Hermione," she replies as if she knows what I'm thinking. Ron Weasley and the boy who came in with Hermione look between us, trying to figure something out. Hermione suddenly remembers why she came in.

"Oh! Have you two seen a toad? Neville here has lost his." She looks around to prove her point.

Ron finally catches up and shakes his head. "We haven't seen a toad. I was just showing Harry here a spell to turn my rat-"

"You can do magic already?" Hermione pulls out her wand excitedly. "Let me see!"

Ron fails miserably. The strange girl notices my glasses and tells me to hold still. "Oculus reparo!" she exclaims, and my once-broken frames are whole again.

"Thanks." I grin shyly, determined to have a private conversation with Hermione soon. "They've been broken for a while."

Hermione smiles again. "Don't mention it. Now," looking up to Neville, she puts her wand back in her robes, "let's go find Trevor!"

After she leaves, Ron looks after her. "She's a strange one, alright."

Hermione: That night, after we're sorted into Gryffindor, Harry finds me alone in the common room. I had hoped he would.

"So," he starts as he sits beside me, "how many times have I visited you?"

I think back. "The first time was when I was five, I think. I had just made Trina Lewis's hair turn blue at the park, and you sat me down and explained that I had magical powers that made me special."

Harry looks pensive. "I wasn't naked, was I? Those trips don't allow me to take anything with me, including clothes."

I shake my head. "No, but the time you visited me when I was seven, you had little more than my mum's linens wrapped around you. I went and grabbed some trousers and a shirt from my dad's closet for you."

Harry laughs. I miss his laugh. "How many times have I seen you before today?"

"Seven in total. You're at varying ages each time, the youngest when you're thirteen. You were older last time I saw you, which was about a year ago."

"How have you explained me to your parents?"

I shrug. "I haven't. They're usually at work when you arrive. You showed me some wandless magic last time you came around."

Another laugh. "I'm glad you enjoy my visits. Have I told you why I jump from time to time?"

"No. I've asked, but you keep telling me you'll tell me some other time."

Harry looked into the fire. "When I was one, Voldemort came to Godric's Hollow and killed my parents. When he turned his wand on me, the resulting explosion destroyed a time-turner my mum kept in her study. She always thought it was useless, which is why she kept it out where anyone could see. Apparently, it was more functional than she had thought."

I'm baffled. "But...if they died, and you've been with your Muggle relatives all of these years, who–?"

"I visited Dumbledore unintentionally. He's known of my condition for a while. All of the Heads of House know."

Harry and I sit quietly for a while. Then, "Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"What happened the first time you time-traveled? How old were you?"

Harry takes a deep breath. "Oh, I was about six. Not that long ago, if you think about it. But luckily, I landed in my own house. It was a shock to my wife, to say the least."

"You're married?" I try to wrap my head around this new information.

"Apparently I am in the future." Harry shrugs again.

"Any kids?" I have to convince myself that this is an actual conversation.

"At least a boy. I was given a suit of his clothes." Harry looks at me. "You're not weirded out by this? I am."

"Harry, we are wizards at Hogwarts. What could be weirder than that?"

(Year 4—Harry and His Future)

Harry: I wake up in my bed in Gryffindor tower, still shaking from what I'd seen. My mother, father—killed in front of me, and I could do nothing but watch it happen. I dress and walk down to the common room.

It's early, still dark outside. However, she's sitting there, reading and revising for an exam.

"Don't you ever sleep?" I ask her, smiling softly as I sit beside her.

Hermione immediately looks concerned. "What are you doing up so early? Was it a dream? Did you—?"

I nod. "I, uh, I saw my parents killed. I didn't have time to warn them." I just know I could have prevented it all!

"Would you have? Couldn't that, I don't know, cause more problems?" She sticks the pencil she uses when she's alone in her mouth and chews the eraser.

I shrug. "I don't know. I try not to meet with the past, and I avoid revealing information about the future. But I—this was the hardest jump I've ever had. Seeing it all happen..."

Hermione reaches over and hugs me. "Harry, I'm sorry you had to see that." Leaning back, she asks, "Have you seen me recently?"

I gulp, but not because I've seen her in the past. I've seen her, but as an adult. I've also seen her—with me. And I've been trying to keep it hidden. "I have. Not recently though," I hedge. Changing the topic, I ask her, "Have you thought about the Yule Ball?"

"Not really. Viktor Krum asked me. I haven't given him an answer."

Thinking back (or ahead) to my future, I take a deep breath and question, "If you had another option, would you still consider Krum?"

"Depends." She's being dismissive.

"What if I ask you?" At this, Hermione looks up.

"Harry? Are you asking me?"

At my nod, she grins, to my relief. "Of course I'll go with you, Harry. I'm glad you asked."

Hermione: The week before the dance, Harry and I are practicing some of the dance steps McGonagall has shown us. We're both terrible, and I finally growl in frustration.

"This is ridiculous! How hard could a simple box-step be?" I rant and rave for another ten minutes, eventually looking over to my partner. He's looking at me, a small smile on his face. "What?" I demand.

"Relax. We don't have to be perfect. After we get through the first dance, we can breathe."

I narrow my eyes at him. "You've seen this, haven't you? You've seen how this goes! That's why you asked me! You knew I'd agree!" Already annoyed, I leave him in the room, and I stalk to the library.

Later, after I calm down, I ease through the door into the common room. Harry is the only one sitting beside the fire, and I softly sit beside him. Neither of us speaks for what seems like lifetimes. Then, Harry breaks the silence.

"What, have you changed your mind now?" he whispered. "Decided that you don't want to go with me because of my deficiency?" Harry looks at me, an air of disgust coloring his features. "I have seen the dance. I've also seen what comes after. Hermione, I've not only seen the good times, the times when you and I are happy, care-free, in love—"

His eyes widen a bit at his own revelation, but he continues, a bit colder, "I've seen the bad times. The torture, death, pain that's coming. Hermione, it's all I can do to keep you as innocent as possible for as long as possible."

I know in my head that he said many—many— important things in his speech, but only one bit stands out: "You...uh...you love me?"

He seems angry still. "This is not how I wanted you to find out. I'd have liked to let our relationship grow naturally, but it's out now. People we care about will die. Soon. This tournament is dangerous. However, I'd like to enjoy myself in the moments we have. I have to." He seems almost desperate now.

I nod slowly. "I see."

"I don't think you do right now. Night, Hermione." Harry quickly stands and climbs the stairs to the dorm, leaving me alone. Well, that could have gone better.

On the day before the dance, I hide in the library and research various ways to breathe underwater. Harry had gotten a hint from Cedric a week before, and he discovered that the next task is under the lake. Even though we haven't talked in a few days, my goal is to keep Harry alive.

Late that afternoon, I feel Harry walk up behind me before taking a seat. I keep reading—or pretending to—until he coughs, breaking the silence.

"I'm sorry."

I look up, confused. "What? Now you're backing out on me?" I question irrationally.

He shakes his head. "No. I shouldn't have gone mental on you like that. You didn't deserve it." He reaches over to still my hand. "Can you take a break? We need to talk."

That afternoon, Harry tells me everything. In the future, we'll have a family. However, Harry warns me that this knowledge is dangerous, and it doesn't make him invincible.

Later, we kiss for the first time. I smile, knowing he's mine.

(Year 7: After the battle)

Harry: I collapse as the last bit of energy drains from me. Voldemort's gone, but in a different way than I had originally seen. Something isn't right.

"Harry!" I smile as I hear her call my name. Hermione runs to me, but as she nears, her face transforms from joyful to fearful. Just as I go to question her, I feel a sharp pain.

Hermione shoots a spell over my head, taking out my attacker; however, it's too late. I collapse into her arms.

Hermione: This can't be happening. Harry won. We're supposed to be happy now. What—?

I catch him and quickly evaluate the situation. He's been hit with dark magic, and he's fading quickly.

"Harry!" I push his hair back and look into his eyes. "You—You promised! You saw us!"

"I know, but don't worry." He takes a shuddering breath. "I'll see you again. I promise."

"But—"

"Love, I'll see you. Don't see this as goodbye. I'll be back. You know me; can't…stay away from you." And with that, Harry Potter slips away.

(Hermione: Adjusting)

Hermione: I ease into my home and slip out of my coat. I check my messages and hear that I have one from Jamie and Pat, my eight-year-old twin boys who are in Australia visiting my parents. They're the only good that came from the war.

I just wish Harry could see them.

I reach the living room and immediately pull out my wand, knowing someone is there.

"Whoa, love. Watch where you point that thing!"

It couldn't be…

"Harry?" He looks so young, but I know he's at least sixteen.

He smiles slightly. Then he stops. "I'm dead, aren't I? There aren't any pictures of me around here. I never get to give you the life I promised you, do I?"

Crying, I shake my head. "No. I—" He stops me.

"I don't want to know how. I don't want to know anything. I just want to spend what time I have with you. Ok?"

I nod, then ask, "Could we keep this our secret? Give me some hope in the past?"

"You've got it. See you later, Hermione."

I've seen him often throughout the years, never over seventeen years old. It's enough to sustain me, and I'm glad he didn't tell me before. At least this way, I'll always have a part of him with me.