Never Yours

A/N: Thank you for the reviews of last chapter. Yes, they were lovely. Now here is chapter nine…

& - 9

“Ginny.”

“Hmm?”

“What - What exactly are we doing?”

Ginny looked up from her copy of Witch Weekly and stared at Harry questioningly.

“What are you talking about, Harry?”

“This. What exactly are we doing here?” he asked again.

Ginny lowered the magazine in her hands, and stared at him from where she lay sprawled on her stomach in his bedroom.

“What d'you mean?”

Harry looked like he wanted to give a reply, but he struggled to come up with the right words to explain what he meant; the frustration showed on his face. He sighed and dropped down on the edge of his bed.

“Our relationship,” he clarified. “What are we doing here, Ginny?”

She sat up on her knees, completely forgetting about the copy of Witch Weekly she had been reading. She was still clad in her clingy red dress from earlier that evening, having only let down her hair and kicking off her shoes when she and Harry had returned back to his apartment.

“I dunno,” she answered him, shrugging. “We're…dating?” she offered lamely.

Harry looked away from her and bowed his head as his eyes stared intently at the carpet beneath his socks.

That's what he thought she'd say…

“Err.” Ginny shifted slightly. “What are we supposed to be doing? I mean…um, what's wrong?”

He sighed. “I dunno,” he said, a thoughtful look about him. “I just…don't you want more?”

Ginny crawled up on her knees behind him, her arms wrapping around him. She rested her chin on his shoulder, her lips dangerously close to the skin of his neck.

“You mean,” she said in a seductive voice, “More.”

She kissed his neck teasingly; hopeful that this was what he was talking about. Otherwise, she had no clue.

“No,” he said, standing so that she almost fell forward off of his bed. He turned around to face her, spotting her annoyed face. “I don't mean that, Ginny. I mean…I dunno…don't you want something more than just casual dating and shagging?”

Ginny looked at him in disbelief. The look made him question if she thought he were mental.

“We're young,” she said, “Isn't that what we're supposed to be doing?”

Harry couldn't think of any other way of putting it. Clearly Ginny just didn't understand what he meant. Clearly Ginny didn't think anything was wrong with their relationship.

“Never mind,” he mumbled, confusion swirling around in his insides.

“Never mind?” she repeated, folding her arms as if insulted. “You never want to talk to me, to tell me what's on your mind!”

He was walking to the door when he spun around at her comment.

“That's because you're a horrible listener!” he countered, agitated. “Ginny, you're funny and that's comforting sometimes, but you're horrible with people's problems. Your solutions - they're always awful and stupid. I'm obviously upset right now and - and your best solution is a good shag!?”

Ginny scowled. He could tell she was growing upset, because of the way her chin pointed out defiantly and with stubbornness.

“Why do I bother?” she snarled.

“I dunno! Why do you?” he remarked with an incredulous laugh. “Our relationship is so…shallow.”

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“I dunno,” he said. He scratched the back of his head. “I dunno, Ginny. But I do know that you should go home, because if you think something is going to happen tonight…well, you're wrong. I need to think.”

Ginny's jaw dropped. She looked offended and furious as she stood from his bed, and put back on her heels.

She never felt so ridiculous.

&

In the week that followed Ron came over to Hermione's flat, ready to begin another “magical evening of Trio movie night”, only to discover that there wasn't going to be one.

“What's wrong with you?” he asked, after spotting her pink nose and eyes. It looked as if she had been crying.

Hermione shrugged, parking herself on one of the stools before her kitchen counter. Ron came up next to her, sitting down right beside her.

“What happened? Oh no, don't tell me it has to do with Harry and you!”

His only response was another shrug from Hermione.

“So you two are going through some rough patches in your friendship - it'll be over before you know it!”

“Ron, it's not like that this time. It's over.”

Ron looked puzzled.

“What's over?”

“Our friendship. Harry and I, our friendship is over.” Her chest hitched as if she wanted to cry again.

“Aw, Hermy! Not a chance, you two - you'll fix - ”

“No,” Hermione interrupted, nodding her head. “It's over, Ron. Over.”

Ron stared at his miserable-looking best friend and he frowned. He hated to see her like this. It felt like forever and a day since he'd last saw her smile genuinely in happiness. He missed that happy smile of hers.

“Well, I'll speak to Harry for you…I know I'm bad with this kind of stuff, but - ”

“It's okay, Ron. Thanks anyway. Listen, maybe you should go.”

She walked Ron back into the living room, stopping right by the front door. She pulled it open for him and waited for him to leave. Ron put back on his cloak, wishing he really were better with this kind of stuff…

“Seems like this is how it always is,” he mumbled, standing over the threshold of the front door. He sighed. “I mean, it seems like I'm always coming over and you're always so depressed all the time, and this is how I always leave. I - I didn't even get to tell you my good news.”

Hermione felt guilty.

“I'm sorry, Ron.” She really meant it, too. “What's your good news?”

“Luna and me, we're going out on a real date on Valentine's Day.”

Surprisingly, he looked excited about it.

“Really?”

“Yeah, last week at that dinner date we really…connected y'know. I think Luna really has grown on me after all this time, more than ever before.”

Hermione smiled at Ron.

“That's great, Ron. I hope everything works out.”

Ron's excitement was chased away by his concern for his best friend. He frowned at `Hermy', and again he regretted his inept ability of being an awful middleman.

“Yeah, Hermy. Me too,” Ron whispered.

Then, he left.

&

As Valentine's Day grew closer and closer Hermione distanced herself more and more from Harry.

Of course, he tried several times to contact her. He came to her flat, but she didn't answer the door. He visited her work, but she requested not to have any visitors. And, every time Ron or someone else pleaded with her to just speak with him, she refused.

She needed to fall out of love with him.

Her feelings for Harry had killed their friendship, and slowly, day by day, it was killing her.

She didn't want to be bound by the emotions of her heart any longer. She wanted to be free and content with her life, and as long as she was foolishly pining for Harry James Potter that'd never happen.

&

Hermione hummed to herself as she walked down the streets of Diagon Alley. She was shopping for something to wear on her Valentine's date tomorrow evening with Cormac McLaggen.

She had specifically requested the day off from her work to have this day to herself.

She was on a road to recovery - recovery from her feelings for Harry.

And she had to admit, the less Harry she saw, oddly, the more peaceful she felt. She didn't know if it were a slight numb sensation cascading down on her, simply because as of late while she felt calm and peaceful she didn't feel…in-tune with the rest of her emotions.

Hermione stopped in front of a shop window displaying various pairs of shoes. She didn't know why, but a specific pair of pointy-heeled black boots caught her attention.

She didn't realize she had been standing there right in front of the shop window gazing at the boots for so long.

Without hearing anyone walk up, she felt a hand on her waist and suddenly someone spoke softly into her ear.

“Don't move, Granger.”

She stiffened as she realized who this was.

“What - What are you doing?” she said in a whisper; she had no idea why exactly she was whispering. She just was.

Suddenly Hermione felt very cautious and anxious.

“You should know they don't want you here.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about, Granger, they - a good few wizards from Knockturn - they don't want you here.”

“This is Diagon, Malfoy! This isn't - ”

“About ten feet separates you from them, Granger,” Malfoy interrupted, his soft words tingling in her ear.

“Why…I mean…”

“You went to Bones about them. You named Nott, Granger. You named his nephew.”

“Whose nephew?”

“Theodore Nott is his nephew. I know you Mudbloods can be slow sometimes, but you know who I'm talking about.”

Hermione shivered at the memory of his voice.

“So why don't you go now? You should know they know you're close. They're watching you,” Draco Malfoy told her.

“HEY! Get away from her!”

Malfoy and Hermione spun around to see none other than Harry standing a few feet away, looking downright furious.

“Get away from her, Malfoy,” Harry growled, hands curled into fists. “NOW!”

Malfoy looked no less than amused. He indeed did step away from Hermione, but he sneered as he did so.

“Aw, is Potter worried about his Granger?” he teased.

“It's been a good few years since I last knocked you flat on your arse, how about I do again for old time's sake?” Harry said irately.

Harry stepped toward Malfoy, but Hermione hurried forward, coming right between him and Malfoy.

“Harry,” she said sternly. “Leave Malfoy alone. He was only talking to me.”

“What a shame, Potter. Looks like you won't be knocking me flat on anything anytime soon,” Malfoy mocked.

Harry grimaced and glared at Hermione, and then at Malfoy before his fists uncurled; he seemed to let go of his anger. He folded his arms, emerald eyes on Malfoy.

“Get out of here, Malfoy,” he said simply and evenly. “If I see you anywhere near Hermione again I'll - ”

“Always with the threats, Potter,” Malfoy laughed icily. “Always with the stupid threats.”

Malfoy smirked one last time as he began to walk away, crossing back into Knockturn Alley.

Once he was gone Harry now had to deal with Hermione's fury.

“Who do you think you are?” she demanded to know. “Who do you think you are, Harry?”

“What!?”

“Malfoy was talking to me - he wasn't attacking me!” she snarled. “Stop being overprotective…stop - stop trying to be my savior! You're not, Harry! You're not my savior.”

Harry looked slightly hurt.

“Hermione, I'm only making sure you're okay.”

“Well, I am! If I weren't I'd go to my best friend…I'd go to Ron.”

“I…Hermione…” He hadn't the faintest idea what to say. She was really hurting his feelings.

He exhaled and closed his eyes for a moment, forcing himself to get decent words out this time.

“Hermione, what - what are we then?”

“We're…I dunno what we are. But we're certainly not best friends anymore.” She swallowed back her tears. “We're not much of anything anymore.”

“Damn it, Hermione, why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Distancing yourself from me! Acting like you don't matter to me anymore…”

“Well, do I? If I do you certainly have never told me. Not once.”

It was true. Not once had he, not even when she had been near death and he had almost lost her.

“You know how much you mean to me, Hermione,” he told her.

She let out a short laugh.

“No, actually I don't, Harry. You've never told me. How do I know how much I'm worth to you? Am I worth more than your Firebolt? Am I less than Ron? What am I exactly? What do I mean to you, because, really, I'd very much fancy finally finding out!”

Harry looked uncomfortable, as he always did whenever asked about his feelings.

“I can't tell you,” he mumbled, digging with his left foot at the ground, more to give him something to do than anything else.

Hermione nodded her head in frustration.

“I'm in love with you and you can't tell me how you feel?”

“You know how I am!” He let out a growl and a sigh. “You know how I am, Hermione. I'm not good with words. I can't…I don't know how to say the things that I feel.”

“Well, that's a shame then,” Hermione concluded, shrugging. “Because I'm not going to wait around like some fool! I'm going to move on without you…”

She looked on the verge of tears.

“Hermione, I broke up with Ginny.”

That threw Hermione for a loop.

She gaped at him for a second or two, thinking of something to say. What she had been about to say didn't really fit the conversation anymore.

“You - You broke up with Ginny?”

“Yeah, for the last time.” She was aware he took a step closer. “Ginny couldn't be worse for me.”

For a second she was lost in his intense eyes, transfixed by that - that amazing look he always gave her. But then she snapped out of it, reminding herself she wouldn't…she couldn't.

“I have to go.” She cleared her throat, breaking their eye contact.

“Ron told me you had a date with McLaggen tomorrow,” he said before she could walk away.

“I do…”

“I thought you loved me.”

Now Hermione struggled with her words.

“I do, but…I'm trying to move on, to forget about you.”

Good luck with that Hermione Granger, she mocked herself silently.

Harry paused for a long while. He obviously didn't like the idea of her going out on a date, especially with McLaggen. Seconds passed before he finally decided he had no choice but to accept it.

“Okay then,” he said miserably with a sigh. “But don't let him…I dunno…gawk at you too much. That git has wandering eyes…”

Normally Hermione would have found his protectiveness adorable or sweet, but at that time it annoyed her.

“Don't you worry about it,” she snapped.

“And - And don't go talking to Malfoy anymore, all right? Please?”

Her resolve weakened; the soft spot she had for him always got to her in the end.

“Harry, he was only talking to me,” she said exasperatedly. “And don't worry, the only reason he saved me was because he still owes me from two years ago, remember?”

Harry nodded, watching her with regret as she started to slowly walk away.

“Bye Hermione,” he said. The look in his eyes were of longing.

She stopped and frowned at him.

“Goodbye Harry.”

She turned again and continued down the sidewalk lined with shop after shop, and Harry wanted to roar at the top of his lungs in complete frustration.

Why couldn't he speak from his heart? Why couldn't he tell her how he felt? Why? What was wrong with him?

&

Hermione returned home hours later that particularly dark evening.

Her flat was quiet and shadowy, the only light being the light of the outside streetlamps and shops nearby.

She made sure to lock her front door, taking off her cloak and hanging it on the coat hanger.

She walked through the darkness of the living room, wanting to bring a nice, warm fire to her fireplace and give this place some light.

But halfway across the living room she tripped on something.

Through the darkness of her flat she fell to the floor, landing a bit painfully there on her knees. She reached into her pants pocket, drawing her wand and lighting it.

She gasped.

Her living room was in utter disarray. The paintings and picture frames on the wall were thrown to the floor, her coffee table and end tables were overturned, and the cushions to her sofa were tossed about the room, slashed down the middle so that the stuffing leaked out. And everything else that could possibly be destroyed, like glass vases and ornaments and her precious books were broken or torn or shattered to pieces.

Tears came to her eyes as she spotted the novel she had been reading not too far off, its pages ripped ruthlessly from the book's bind.

The tears eventually slid out of her eyes and down her cheeks, dripping from her face's end and splattering onto the floor as she sat there, legs folded at her sides.

Someone had done this to her home. Someone had been here.

Hermione's now watery, light brown eyes spotted a letter in a yellow envelope not very far off. She could make out what it said on its cover from there, in messy scrawl she didn't recognize, it shortly read Granger.

While she cried and stared at the letter some feet away, she couldn't help feeling, as the eerie silence of the flat pressed down upon her, that she wasn't so alone after all.

&

A/N: As always thank you for reading. Reviews are greatly appreciated. I'm going to update with the next chapter tomorrow night if it's the last thing I do. Well, erm, no…I shouldn't say that. But I'll try really, really hard. Ha. Yes.