RainSong
Disclaimer: don't own characters, just the plot.
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One shot fic.
To the one who has managed to capture my heart without even having the slightest clue, this is for you.
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Hermione put down the phone, as sobs escaped her. Hot tears fled down her cheeks, as her vision became blurry and she could feel them rain down on the tabletop. She sat down, and covered her face with her hands, gasping in air but never managing to get enough. Her hands stung with heat, as her heart broke inside. His voice echoed through her ears, his words piercing through every bit of emotional structure she had inside of her. His voice had been filled with so much anger, so much venom that she could not bear to hear it ever again. But yet it boomed continuously.
With every blow her heart was being hammered into pieces.
She stood up, and tried to dry her tears but did so without success. Her face felt sticky, as she inhaled sharp breaths only to come back out as sobs. She walked across the room and up the stairs, not the slightest bit worried that she could not see with her tears clouding her vision.
She walked into their bedroom, as she turned on the light. The tears came out harder; she was not used to this kind of downpour of bittersweet tears. But even so, the pain did not lessen in any way. Her tears would never accomplish such a thing; she knew. She grabbed her suitcase from underneath the bed, out of breath but her mouth feeling dry. She went to her closet and grabbed her clothes. She went into her dresser and packed up all her belongings, but as she looked for anything else she came across their picture. She heard the splintering echo of her shattering heart.
His raven hair shone in the sun, as his arm was around her waist. He was holding her, grinning handsomely, leaning in to kiss her.. She turned away as her sobs became harder. She tried to calm herself down, her hands wringing and burning. But she could not find the stillness that she thought she had established in her earlier years. Deep down inside she knew such pain as this could never be covered up or fade. It could not be calmed or composed, or bottled up. It was far too strong, far too deep. This kind of hurt she knew she would never forget, as it would never let her. Her tears came out harder as she closed her suitcase shut, and picked it up off their bed. Her heart, or rather, what was left of it, was telling her to stay, that he hadn't meant it. But that just made her cry harder. She left their room; she knew looking back would only make things worse.
She tried to keep a straight voice as she called a taxi, and managed to keep it in until she put the phone back on the receiver.
She grabbed her coat and scarf, still trying to hold back her tears although she knew it was impossible. She looked around their place. Her tears fought to pour out harder, but she tried to lock it inside. Her chest felt heavy, tightly compressed with such a strong and firm bind, as she tried to close her eyes. She gave the place one last look before heading towards the door. She picked up her suitcase, feeling a bit heavy but she didn't mind. Her heart was still throbbing although most of it had broken off and fallen to the pit of her stomach.
She headed out.
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Harry heard the dial tone, and suddenly his words had come back to him. He sat frozen, his heart crumbling in slowly. He couldn't help but stifle a cry as he realized what he had done. He put the phone down, as he looked at his hands. His hands were aching, throbbing. He ran a hand through his jet-black hair, as his eyes stung and his throat became suddenly dry and parched. He looked back at his worn-out hands. He was shaking.
He had been so angry, so tired, so frustrated. And he had taken it out on her. He had told her the cruelest and harsh words that he knew she would never deserve in her life. And yet, he had told her. He had yelled it at her. He had yelled at her like she was nothing, like he didn't care. Like he didn't want to come home and spend some time with her. He had treated her like she was worthless. Like she wasn't the girl he knew he was going to marry.
He treated her the way he had promised himself he would never do.
He picked up the phone again, desperate and mentally screaming at himself. The phone rang and rang. Once, twice, three times. Four, five, six, seven..
He could feel his heart caving in, trying to eat itself from inside out. His skin felt deathly cold; he was still trembling. He waited for her to answer. He waited for her to pick up. He waited to hear her voice again so that he could apologize and tell her that he hadn't meant anything that he had said. He waited and waited. The phone rang continuously.
She never picked up.
He hung up and called again. He didn't hear her voice. He didn't hear what made his heart stop. The rings filled his ears, his mind slowly growing bitter and numb.
The phone rang and rang.
She never picked up.
Harry could feel worry ripping through him. Surely she would answer the phone, even if she was angry with him. But he put the phone down slowly, realization dawning on him.
She hadn't been angry with him. There hadn't been anger, or rage or anything related to that for the matter. There hadn't even been a trace of anger in her voice.
No, she wasn't angry with him. She wasn't.
He remembered her voice breaking, and her tear-streaked face flashed in his mind. He felt the pieces of his heart drop slowly, piercing into the tender but vacant pit of his stomach. The silence deafened his senses, as he felt his whole body stiffen and become dead. He could hear his heart beating loudly, or what was left of it, its beats throbbing and pounding in his mind and veins. His blood was running cold, his organs ground into fine powder. He dug his face in his hands.
He was so ashamed. What had he done?
He had just hurt the one person he loved more than anything in the world. He had just hurt the one person he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He didn't feel as if he had enough reason to live. Not if he had just done this, no. She deserved so much better.
Yet she chose him. She chose him, Harry Potter.
And he practically told her he hated her. That no one had asked her to be with him, or stay with him. He had told her he didn't want her, to be with her. That he didn't love her, when all that occupied his heart and mind was her and only her.
He was such a fool.
He didn't deserve her. He didn't deserve to wake up to see her smiling face each morning and feeling as if God had given him the best and only thing he could ever need or ask for in his life. He was selfish. She deserved someone who would love her, take care of her, and say nice things that she truly deserved that wasn't even close to defying the truth. But the thing was, he didn't know if there was someone else in the world who loved her as much as he did.
He loved her so much, with every single fiber and drop in his veins. He loved her so much though she deserved so much better than him, yet he could not ever let her go. He would give her everything, anything that was in his capability or grasp that she wanted. That would've been enough, that should've been enough.
But all she ever wanted was to be with him. All she wanted to do was to spend her days with him, live with him so that they would never have to be apart.
All she wanted to do was love him as much as he loved her. And she did.
Harry had never felt so bad in his life.
Inside his heart was being torn apart, by none other than him, as his gut twisted painfully. His hands were sweaty but frosty and numb, as he reached for the phone again.
The rings would not stop.
He was pleading for her to pick up, to let him explain. It was killing him that he could not take back what he had said, but it was even worse that he could not even apologize. Just then, something flashed through him like a bolt of lightning in a stormy dusk.
He shot up off his chair, dropping the phone. The loud rings continued on distinctively and faintly.
His emerald eyes were wide, his body trembling with his fears echoing and becoming bigger in him. Suddenly, without even grabbing his coat, he ran out, leaving everything behind.
The phone lay on his desk, the rings weak and pale from a distance
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Hermione sat in the cab, her suitcase beside her. Her tears would not stop, as she continued to sob in the back of the cab. The cab driver, a young man with tamed brown hair, kept shooting her worried looks. She could tell he was new; he had never driven a sobbing woman before. But it was quiet, the man not wanting to ask what had happened, and Hermione was truly grateful for that.
Outside the midnight sky was dark; the blackest she had ever seen it. Although the stars shone and twinkled brightly as she had never seen before, she could not pay heed to the lovely sight. Her torn heart and salty tears were too much of a distraction. Suddenly rain began to pour. Tiny raindrops slid down her window, as she pressed her fingers against the cold glass.
The glass was frosty and bitter, but she did not pull her hand away. She watched the raindrops skate down her window; translucent, wet but beautiful. She tried to think of how raindrops tasted much differently from her own tears, but her mind only wandered back to her broken heart.
Tears slipped out again, painfully but so easily. A boy with the greenest eyes she had ever seen stood in front of her, smiling. His raven, unruly hair sticking up all over the place.
She gasped in air. She never thought he had looked so handsome. Her body trembled and shook as she cried.
She loved him. She loved him, Harry Potter. More than anything in the world, more than anything that could possibly exist in the world. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, for all her days. And she had thought he had felt the same way too. She had thought he had loved her, like he had said so.
Just not as much as she loved him. Just not as much as she would like him to.
Not enough to hold and keep them together through the rest of their lives.
So she left. She left him. She was leaving the past two years of her life with him. He didn't need her; he had said so. His voice boomed on the other line, anger striking her so painfully. His words were like the venom she never would've liked to taste. The venom that broke her, that filled her with such hurt and wounds that even the most powerful anesthesia could not numb. Her whole body ached, her eyes stung, her skin smoldering in the frosty night air.
He didn't want to be with her. She had been mistaken all these years. Or maybe he had wanted to be with her, at first. But as her love grew for him each and every day, his love for her faded like the last few rays of light before darkness came and ruled for its hours. He didn't love her anymore. He hadn't said so, but he didn't need to.
He didn't love her.
That alone filled her with so much hurt she would ever feel in her lifetime.
She left him. Because she wanted him to be happy, even if he didn't want her to be by his side. It hurt, hurt like the first licks of the flames of hell, but she did it. She packed up her things and left. She loved him enough to leave and let him be. All she wanted was to be with him, and hope that he would be happy. But that wasn't enough.
She was such a fool for thinking that it would ever be enough.
Hermione Granger had always had common sense, logic, enough smarts to pass through any test that could be studied for and taken in both the Muggle world and Wizarding world. But as smart as she thought she was, she hadn't seen this. And she blamed herself for that. If she had seen it, paid attention to the clues and hints, then maybe she wouldn't have been so badly hurt. She could've prepared. She would've known and therefore it wouldn't be wounding and scarring her as much as it was.
Something told her, deep inside, that this was one thing in the world you could not prepare for; hurt, loss. Love. It was inevitable, and no one could ever see it coming.
But that didn't lessen the pain one bit.
They passed lit and bright but hazy street lights, as other cars whizzed by. Hermione's tears hadn't had been as strong as before, but they still slid down her cheeks, her mouth salty and bittersweet from the taste of them. She had never tasted tears as much as she had today. But she had a feeling today would not be the end. She had a feeling the taste would become all too familiar through the rest of her life.
Hermione dropped her hand from the window, as she swiped her finger across her cheek, wiping away an escaped tear. She felt weak and small. Wounded and heartbroken. Useless and dumb. Broken but heavily still put together. Numb but hurt. She stared at her hands. Her palms were stained with tears, wet and sticky. They were deathly pale from the cold air slipping into the cab. She let out a painful ragged breath.
She had been alone. She had been happy, but empty and vacant those years before. She had known there was something missing, something that was key to her life, something that was vitally important. She was sad and alone, getting up each morning only to be greeted with an empty home and her own reflection. Her eyes were clouded with misery and sadness; the bright twinkles of happiness that had been there those years before were no longer there. They had faded quickly, her mind and heart shutting down. Shutting her out from all she had taken joy in.
Her days were gray and lonesome. She had no one; no friends, no friendly co-workers she ate lunch with daily. She was breaking, if she had not already been long before. Smiling and laughing had never felt so strange and alien. It all had never felt so strained in her life.
Until one day, she met him again. They were and had been best friends, but had been out of touch for the past year. And with him, she laughed and smiled for the first time since her lonely days. He made her feel happy, he made her heart function and beat just like before. He brought back happy memories, and those green eyes of his she knew she would never tire of.
He made her forget that she was alone, and miserable. He made her forget all those times she'd thought about ending her life. He made her forget all those times she had thought she could no longer live on.
He made her forget that hollow, vacant spot that throbbed in her heart. Because he had filled it. He had taken the vacancy and occupied it. He made her feel again. He made her happy.
But there was something else in there.. Something that made her heart stop when she heard his voice and hearty laughter. Something that made everything else fade around her when she looked into his eyes. There was something that filled her from the tips of her hair to her toes. It was intense and restless, deep and glowing.
That had been the first time she knew she loved him.
She remembered that one day that she knew would never fade from her memory. Harry had asked her to take a walk with him, and they strolled around the park on that sunny day. She was aware of his fidgeting hands, and his nervous laugh and smile. She could see there was something flickering in his eyes, something that he was hiding but was eager to tell her. But as she was about to ask him what was wrong-
He did it.
He wrapped his arms around her and placed his mouth on hers. She had never thought a feeling such as that ever existed. As if a glowing, holy light was filling her, overflowing her. And as he pulled back, she could not stop the hammering beats of her heart in her chest, her stinging but lips sweet from the taste of him.
That had been the day he said he wanted to be with her.
The day she finally felt complete.
Hermione felt her throat constrict tightly, as if a pair of invisible hands were wrapped around her neck and strangling her. She choked on her tears, as the memories flooded back and she could not stop them. Her heart was still beating painfully, although she was not even sure if it was still there anymore. Somehow she could feel the sharp, toothed pieces that had broken off and fallen, stabbed deeply at the pit pf her stomach.
She tried to wipe away her tears as the cab came to a halt. She saw the train station and the hazy streetlights in the light rain. She dug inside her coat pocket and handed him the money, as he shot her another concerned look.
"Are you sure you're going to be alright, ma'am?" He asked her. Hermione nodded, as she stepped out and lugged the suitcase behind her.
"I'll be just fine," she called out to him in the rain, her voice faint but scratchy. He nodded as he gave her a knowing look, before driving off.
Hermione felt the icy drops rain on her skin, almost numbing her senses, but not as much as she would've liked it. She walked towards the station, heavy suitcase in hand, her tears now camouflaged by the raindrops that slid down her face.
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Harry was driving at a rapid speed, not caring if he was in danger of getting caught or crashing. His emerald eyes glittered darkly, as his throat felt tapered and his mouth felt dry. His heart's once rhythmic beating was pounding fast in his chest, his hands pallid in the moonlight, clutching the wheel.
The road was wet, and rain slid down his windshield. The cold night air was plastered to his skin, though the windows were kept closed. His muscles were tight, the determination on catching her before she went growing immensely. He couldn't let her leave. And he wasn't going to.
He had driven to their house first. The house had been empty and vacant; the kitchen light lit but there was no one there. He had raced throughout their house, calling her name loudly, searching the hallways and corridors. Then he had reached their room.
Even in the dark he knew when her presence had been long gone.
He flipped the light switch, and the sight made his heart stop. In his throat there was a heavy stone, which was trying to push down. It was suffocating, choking him.
He stood frozen, for a few moments, before heading towards the middle of their room. He went to her dresser, and opened her drawers.
It was empty.
He went to their closet, and opened it to her side.
She had taken most of her clothes with her.
He raced to their bed, and looked underneath.
Her suitcase was gone.
She was gone. She had taken her clothes, everything.
Along with his heart.
She wouldn't be coming back. There was nothing important enough to come back for and retrieve. Even him. She wouldn't come back for him. She had left. He was never going to see her again. And it was his entire fault. It was his entire bloody fault. He looked over to their dresser, where there was a picture frame.
It was them. Smiling, laughing. So in love. He was holding her, and she was slightly leaning back, her mouth curved in such a breathtaking smile that made his heart stop. Her hands were wrapped around his neck, pulling him close, as he was leaning in to kiss her.
He had felt something snap around his heart, as he raced out of the room.
He got back in his car and started the engine, as he backed out.
He wasn't going to let her go. He wasn't going to let her leave. He needed her, more than anything.
He was going to go after her, no matter how hard it could possibly rain, or how fast he would have to drive his car. He was going to get her back, no matter what it took.
Harry pressed his foot down to go faster.
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Hermione walked over to the ticket booth. She looked at the times hovering above, as she sighed, her hand clutching her suitcase tightly. She was alone, besides an elderly woman sitting on a bench, reading a book.
She chose her destination, and paid for her ticket to the young girl working. Hermione walked over to a bench, as she set her suitcase beside her. She let out a ragged breath. The woman sitting yards away from her cast her a look.
Her train would come in about twenty minutes; 12:38 am. She sat and stared at the wall across from her; there were multicolored posters and newspaper articles taped up. She tried to prevent her eyes from tearing up again.
She waited.
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Harry could feel his heartbeats pound faster, as his hands were starting to cover with cold sweat.
He looked at the time. 12: 34.
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Hermione waited, as her hands started getting awfully cold. Her throat was dry, her heart still aching. The memories replayed inside her head, opening up and piercing through her new wounds that haven't even started to heal. She felt tears sting her eyes again, as she remembered the first time Harry told her that he had loved her.
She let out an uneven breath, as she could hear the train approaching. She stood up and wiped her eyes, as she bent down to grab her suitcase.
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Harry raced out of his car and out into the rain, the icy drops falling down on him. The bitter night air pierced through him, but he didn't notice. His long legs pattered on the ground, sending puddles to splash and soak the edge of his pants.
His heart hammered inside his ears.
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Hermione could see the lights of the train, as it penetrated through the dark. She swallowed hard, as it neared. Her hands were sweaty but cold. Her thoughts were darting and scattering, now uncertain of her decision.
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Harry entered the train station and ran past the ticket booth.
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The train whizzed by, and came to a sudden halt. Hermione waited, closing her eyes for a moment, as she heard the door swing open. She stepped in.
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Harry turned the corner, and a brown haired girl came into view. He didn't need any more assurance that it was her.
"Hermione!" He yelled loudly. Hermione froze, at the sound of his voice. She heard the splintering shatter of something deep inside her.
"Hermione!" He called out, still running. "Don't leave! Please! You can't leave! Don't leave!" He yelled out. His heart was racing, his lungs aching for air.
Hermione felt numb, her legs frozen, her heart had completely stopped. But yet she turned around slowly and looked at the direction of the familiar voice that still managed to break her heart.
And there he was.
Harry ran faster, until he finally reached her. She looked at him with her dark, deep and pained brown eyes. Harry panted, catching his breath. He looked at her, his emerald eyes piercing through her, making the pain wash over her once again. He stepped closer, as her gaze trailed him. She swallowed hard, her brown eyes glossy with the hint of new coming tears.
"Hermione," he whispered to her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of what I said. I'm a fool for saying those things to you, Hermione. I didn't and will never mean them to you. Don't leave. I need you, I need you here with me. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here by my side, Please stay," he said, his deep green eyes pleading. "I love you."
Hermione felt tears brim her eyes once again.
"You do?" she asked, her voice breaking. Harry smiled, as he raised his hand to her cheek. A tear rolled down, as he framed her face with his hands and wiped it away.
"I want to spend the rest of my life with you," he whispered to her, grinning. "Does that answer your question?"
Hermione's eyes widened at his answer. What did he mean? Did he just- he couldn't have just told her-
"Harry-" she said, but was interrupted as his lips came down on hers. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her closer, deepening the kiss. She wrapped her hands around the nape of his neck and responded.
Slowly, very slowly, Hermione felt her heart construct again.. The pieces and fragments fitting in perfectly, filling in every spot. And soon, it was whole again. She was whole again.
She was complete again.
Because she was with him.
The elderly woman sitting on the bench, smiled. Her eyes twinkled as she put down her book and stood.
"Have a good life together, you two," she said to herself, smiling. "My work here is finally done."
And with that, she disappeared.
The train made its final call, announcing that it was heading off. It started moving slowly, as it chugged loudly, and whizzed by.
Outside the moon shone, and the stars twinkled and danced with joy. The song of the rain, the pitter-patters of the drops on the windows, slowly faded and soon disappeared into the dark night.