Abundant Skies
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, just the plot.
Chapter Eleven: Haunted
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Harry met Ron by the Quidditch field, the next day. He was tired, exhausted, but he needed to get up in the endless sky. That was where he could think, where he was at peace. But it seemed that wasn't enough, through these past hours. He had stayed up last night, weary, but he could not drift away. His thoughts were plagued by the kiss, Hermione.. She had looked so hurt, so pained. It confused him, angered him. Why was she being so bloody stubborn? Why couldn't she just hear him out, let him explain? Why was she so determined to believe that what had happened was just a mistake, an accident? Did she want it to be just an accident? Harry wasn't convinced. She couldn't fool him, not when he had known and watched her for so long. He couldn't figure it out. Did she want to be with him? Did she love him, like he loved her? Or did she just see him as a friend? The questions struck him hard, piercing, giving him a splintering headache. Ron and Harry sat down on the seats, for a while, as they watched the sky.
It was blue, cloudless and clear. It was a perfect day for flying. Sometimes they went up there to improve their flying skills, to reach their range of perfection. But Ron knew, Harry went there as often as he could, when he needed to. Harry had told him once, that he just went up there to clear his mind. But Ron knew all Harry did up there was think about Hermione, so that wasn't really `clearing his mind.' Ron looked at his green-eyed friend, and saw his expression was confused, slightly annoyed and angry. But solemn, at the same time. It was amazing how Harry could express so many expressions on his face at the same time. Ron sighed, as he looked around. Then he remembered Hermione's three-weekend deal. He sat up, and searched the field, the entrance to the Quidditch field. Hermione wasn't there. He looked at Harry, who still seemed to be deep in thought.
"Mate, where's Hermione?" Ron asked, as he looked out into the field once more. Harry's eyes flickered to the empty field, but returned to staring at his hands.
"I don't know."
Ron raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Something the matter? You don't look.. As enthusiastic as you usually do when we go flying. Is it because Hermione's not here? Because, I promise you, she's going-"
"No, that's not it," he snapped.
"Then what is it?"
"Nothing. It's nothing." Ron searched Harry's face, and smiled faintly.
"Liar. It's about Hermione."
Harry sighed. No use lying to Ron now. He already knew anyway.
"Have you noticed.. She missed breakfast yesterday, left early at lunch, and didn't bother coming to dinner. I didn't see her at breakfast, either. What's going on? And, yesterday.. You went after her. What happened?"
"She's avoiding me," Harry said solemnly. "Again."
"Why?"
Harry turned away, as he sighed again, looking into the abundant blue skies. His heart felt like it was under an immense amount of pressure when he thought about her. he could feel it crumbling, giving away.
"We were studying in the common room, and.." Harry paused, and swallowed hard. "I kissed her."
Ron gaped at his friend, and then a wild madman grin dominated. "Are you serious? You kissed her? I can't.. You kissed her," he said, disbelievingly.
"Lavender caught us, and she ran," Harry said. Ron gaped at his friend, so shocked.
"Lavender caught you? Oh Harry.. Not smooth. So not smooth.."
Harry stayed silent, obviously not caring if he had been `smooth' or not. He was thinking about Hermione, the way she had rushed to gather her things that night. The way she had bolted up the stairs. She had wanted to get away from him so badly. Why? She had kissed him back, and he remembered she had held him closer.. Her soft, warm hands pulling him close.. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to rid of the glowing, warm feeling that spread through him, thinking about the way her hands felt on him. If she wanted to forget it ever happened, she could try. But even if he tried, it wouldn't work. Not even the least bit.
"So.. I take it Hermione didn't like getting caught?"
"She didn't like being KISSED, period."
"No way. Really? Hermione?"
Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Just.. Let's go. She's not coming," Harry said, picking up his broom and heading out into the field. Ron followed after him, still curious about what had happened between his two best friends.
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Hermione sat in the library, leaning against the firm bookshelf. The floor was cold underneath her legs, but she didn't mind. She rested her head on the bookshelf, as she sighed and closed her eyes. The book she had been reading for the past two hours was in her hands, although she felt weary of holding it. She had concentrated, tried to focus on what the book was trying to tell her on the famous old witches and wizards and their accomplishments. But it seemed everything they had did interested her, as her mind wandered off again. She kept thinking about Harry, the way he had looked at her when he had gone after her in the Great Hall. He wanted to be with her. He wanted to be with her. She couldn't believe it at first, and analyzed the situation again and again, trying to find some other reason as to why he would ask why there couldn't be anything more between them.
And why he had said he had truly meant to kiss her. She remembered lying on her bed in the dormitory, completely shocked and weary, confused. His words had blown her away, shattered every assumption, every thought of their kiss being a mistake. How was she going to believe that it all had been some accident when he had confirmed it to be false? He told her he meant to kiss her. Why??
Why did he have to go after her? Why did he have to tell her what she feared he would say? Why did he have to go and make it much more complicated than it already was? Why?? WHY?! She was so confused, her heart and conscience tugging at her, screaming. She was so weary of it all, so exhausted of the constant spinning of her world, the splitting headaches she got whenever she thought about it, tried to analyze it. She wanted to believe it was all just a mistake. It would make thing so much easier, that he had done it because.. Well, because he did. That he didn't do it because he really had feelings for her. She was so ready; she was all ready to believe it. Things would've been much simpler; she would go back to being friends with him, pretend like it never happened. Because it didn't, and if there were no feelings attached, it would be so easy. Things would go back to the way they were. That was all she wanted. That was all she was asking for.
She didn't know if he loved her. She didn't want to know. She didn't want to know anything more that would make her fall on her knees and cry. It all was hurting her so much, and she hadn't seen Harry since yesterday. Just thinking about him hurt. His words still rang in her ears, never fading. It was tearing her heart apart. Hermione felt her grip loosen, and the book slide off from her grasp. It slid to the floor, and she didn't move, as her eyes remained shut.
She sighed. Even reading couldn't help her now. Burying herself with schoolwork wasn't going to get her away this time. She just couldn't find a place where she could be at peace anymore, where she couldn't think of it. There was nowhere she could go, nowhere. It plagued her mind like a strong and violent virus that she couldn't run from.
She couldn't sleep at night. And even when she could, her dreams were invaded with the same raven-haired, green-eyed boy that she was determined to forget.
But she couldn't. He haunted her even when she thought she was alone.