Finale

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Finale

VII. Gigue

Someone was watching her. She was asleep, and still, even in her slumber, she could feel that someone was watching her. Groaning, she turned on her back and slowly opened her eyes. The sun was too bright, and she immediately shut them again.

"Good morning, my dear girl," said a familiar voice near her. Hermione abruptly sat up, and, blinking, focused her blurry gaze on Amadeus, who was seated on her bed.

"Amadeus! You are here!" she squealed, looking at him through her suddenly watery eyes. "Oh." She sniffled. "I need to tell you so much. I'm so sorry, so, so sorry!"

"Shush," he hushed her just like he always did, tilted his face closer to her and kissed her forehead. "Calm down, my dear, you don't need to tell me anything. I already know," he said, and smiled sadly.

"You do? How?" asked Hermione through the sniffles, wiping her face with her boring white bed sheet.

"Anthony found me yesterday, and we had a long, serious, father-son talk," explained Amadeus.

"He did? Where did he find you?" Hermione just couldn't wrap her mind around what the wizard was telling her.

"Well, he found me in Japan, actually," said Amadeus with a chuckle.

"In Japan? But how?"

Amadeus shrugged. "Unspeakable."

"Oh." Hermione nodded. "Is he all right?"

Amadeus laughed softly. "He is fine, darling. And extremely concerned about you, by the way. Are you all right, my dear? As I understood, you had some kind of an intense encounter with Anthony yesterday."

Hermione blushed, drew the bed sheet up to her chin, and muttered, "I am fine, Amadeus. And I am truly sorry."

"Shush, my dear girl, shush. I know that you are sorry, and so am I. After my talk with Anthony, I'm just—I'm disgusted with myself. The boy loves you, Hermione. Always did, even before I met you."

"He did?" Hermione couldn't contain her surprise. "But, how, when, why?"

"That, my dear, you'll have to ask him." Amadeus smiled. "I'm sure, eventually, he'll explain everything to you."

"But, I thought-I mean, in the beginning, it looked like he couldn't stand me."

Amadeus nodded. "Yes, yes, my brilliant boy had us both tricked. Still, I should've known, I should've recognised the signs. He is my only child, and I've been such a self-centred fool about the whole thing. Unforgivable, it's just unforgivable."

His sad face was breaking Hermione's heart, and she whispered feverishly, "Amad, please, stop. You couldn't have known."

"Well, maybe I could, maybe I couldn't, darling. That's not the point. I've been selfish and haven't listened. If you think that Kingsley only bothered you with his opinion about us, you couldn't be more mistaken. I've known our Minister since Hogwarts, Hermione. Over the last five years, he's given me so many speeches about how wrong I am for you that I've lost count. But he got me thinking, that stubborn old bastard," he chuckled. "He was right, you know. Always was right. I am wrong for you, and I probably have known it all along. I was just too selfish to act upon that knowledge."

He drew a soft sigh and focused his hazel eyes on her. "I won't stand between you and Anthony. I know when it's time to step aside, my darling. And with time, I can learn to love you as a daughter. As perverted as it sounds right now, I truly believe that I can. I will need to disappear for a year or so. I hope you both won't miss me too much."

By the end of this monologue Hermione was openly crying. "I am sorry, Amadeus. I feel horrible, guilty and horrible."

Amadeus once again moved closer to her, clasped her face between his palms, and whispered, "Stop it, my dear. It's not forever; it's just for a little while. Just be a good girl and don't hurt my wonderful boy. You both are too important to me. I expect you to marry him and, eventually, honour us with a few little Goldsteins." With that, he once again kissed her forehead and rose from the bed. "Oh, and Anthony asked me to tell you that he has gone to Spain for three months."

"To Spain?! For three months?! Why?!"

The wizard shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Some kind of research, I suppose. He is truly brilliant at what he does. Too bad he cannot talk about it." Amadeus walked to the door.

"Amadeus, wait," called Hermione. She was about to jump from the bed.

The wizard turned to her, lifted his arm forbiddingly, and said, "Stay where you are, girl! I'm only human after all," and Apparated away with a pop.

Three months later

Hermione had been wrestling with the seafood paella for the last two hours, and by the tortured appearance of the ingredients in the pan, it was obvious that she was helplessly losing. "Bugger," she cursed and turned to pour herself more wine. That's when she noticed him standing on the threshold, watching her with a smile. His skin was so tanned that his eyes seemed azure on his sun-kissed face.

"Your door was open," he said.

"I don't like it closed," she replied, very self-importantly stirring the rice in the pan.

"I thought you didn't cook." He walked closer and peeked into the pan over her shoulder.

"I thought you hated to travel." She pressed her back to his chest and twined her arms around his neck.

He pressed his lips to her pulse point and sucked lightly. Moving his lips upward, he placed soft kisses on her neck, jaw, and cheek. Stopping at her ear, he whispered, "I still absolutely loathe travelling." He unhooked her arms from around his neck and turned her to him.

"And I still don't cook," she managed to reply, just before he captured her lips.