Boys Don't Cry
Disclaimer: don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters except Matthew and the plot.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
I'm sorry for the long wait. But if you look at this chapter, it's extra long, so I hope that makes up for the wait.
A few more twists and then this fic will be over. There will be the feast and ball in Hogwarts, a kiss between two (it'll be a surprise who) and a secret revealed. And the secret will be revealed in the next chapter; that's when you'll understand why Hermione's being so cold and unreasonable, I promise you. And then the sweet, sweet end…
My guess for this story… about two to three more chapters to go until it ends. Or maybe even four. I don't know. I have something planned that I'm pretty sure that will make you hate me, but it'll all be good in the end just the same.
So no, this fic is not done yet. Thanks for all your fantastic reviews!
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Moonbeam
The house was still and quiet, dinners awkward and forced. The laughs were hearty for a second but then faded away into a weak smile. Things had changed.
Harry didn't talk much. He didn't come to lunch or dinner, or both, at times. He always seemed weary or in a misty daze when he came down every once in a while. He came out to fly only barely. People tried to talk to him, Molly trying to find out what exactly was wrong, but he just smiled weakly and walked away without another word. That was how it was.
Sad, quiet and dark. The Hero was always cooped up in his room, and no one ever asked exactly what he did, but every time they passed by, it was quiet. There was no noise. Little peeks of light had never bled from the edge below of his door. Somehow, slowly, they had become unfamiliar to the once happy and smiling boy. Some way they suddenly lost contact, and they hadn't a clue as to how or why.
Remus was worried. He had asked Molly and the others if they heard anything, or had he spoken to any of them. But no one had the answer he was looking for. Molly asked him if he knew what had happened, but he just shook his head and smiled tiredly. He knew that it wasn't in his place to say just what had happened between the two. But somehow, they all already knew that something had occurred between Harry and Hermione. It all added up; even though there was still a big piece missing.
One day, Remus walked quietly over to Harry's room. He knocked. No answer. He knocked again. He listened hard for a sound; trudging footsteps, rustling of sheet covers… Nothing. Finally, he twisted the knob and the door slowly opened, much to his surprise. He walked in, silently closing the door behind him.
The room was dark and cold, still, undisturbed and gloomy. The atmosphere seemed dark, bitter and tinted with shadows that were looming out of their corners. He saw a lone figure lying on the bed. He walked over to Harry, standing in front of his bed.
His hair was unruly and untamed even more than before, his face so pale as if cruelly inhuman. There were bags under his eyes; it was clear to him that all this time he spent in here he hadn't spent sleeping. It seemed as if he had never gotten any sleep at all.
"Harry?" he said quietly. Slowly, Harry opened his eyes and saw Remus. His once bright emerald eyes were dark and tired, as if worn out. He looked at Remus with an expression that was unreadable but cold and dim. The shadow hid half of his face, making him seem unfamiliar and unrecognizable.
"Remus," he said quietly. Remus nodded at him, smiling faintly, before sitting down at the edge of his bed.
"Are you alright, Harry?" he asked.
"I'm great, Remus," he said in a hoarse voice. He shook his head.
"You're not well. What's going on? You don't come down for meals, you don't come out of this room… What's happened, Harry? The members are worried sick about you." Harry stared up at the ceiling.
"I just don't feel like getting out of this room, Remus," he replied. "I just want to be left alone."
"Why? Just because some girl broke your heart?" Harry closed his eyes.
"Remus," he said, weary. "Don't start about this."
"No, Harry, listen to me," he said. "Don't do this to yourself. Don't. I'm begging you not to. Not over some girl. There are so many other--"
"Remus," Harry snapped. "I don't want to hear it." Remus became silent. "Do you know how many times a day I hear that? Every single moment I'm having some kind of argument or debate with my bloody conscience, saying that she's not worth this and I should just move on. And I should, I know that. I shouldn't care that she doesn't want to be with me." He sighed, raising his hand and running it through his hair. "But I can't move on, Remus. Not yet. You just don't see it," he whispered. "You just don't feel it."
"Harry, heartbreak isn't anything alien or new. It's been here since the world was created. Mankind cannot escape it, and neither can Wizards and Witches. They have tried making Potions, spells... We can't escape it. No one can."
"No," he said, shaking his head. "It's not just that." There was silence, as Harry closed his eyes again. Remus watched him, intently.
"Do you know why I can't come out of this room?" he whispered. "Because I can't bear to face her. I can't bear to see her face, to just…be in the same room she is. I can't. It's not because I hate her, or I'm angry…it's just that it hurts. It hurts so bloody much that I just have to walk out and leave. And I just don't want to feel that all over again. I just don't."
"You're not the only one hurting, Harry," Remus said quietly. "I see her. She isn't any better as you. Mostly she doesn't come out of her room, only at meals. But she stays quiet, and when I say that you're not coming down… She really does love you, Harry. I think she's starting to realize that it was a mistake." Harry's eyes remained closed.
"The day it happened, when we were at lunch," he said, "and she excused herself from the table early," he paused, as if trying to collect his words. "When I walked by her room… I heard her. She was crying. And I can't help but wonder that, when everyone's down there, eating and talking…if she still cries. I can't hear it from all the way over here, but sometimes I want to just walk over there and listen, just like last time. I know she's hurt about it, and it hurts for me to know that I was the one to cause her that pain… But it feels as if she doesn't really believe that I love her. And I can't help but wonder why."
"Why do you say that, Harry?"
"I just… Sometimes I wonder about her. And I don't think that she knows how much she means to me at all. I don't think she believes that I really do love her as much as I do. It makes sense," he whispered. "More sense than everything else does right at this moment." Remus let out a silent sigh, slouching his shoulders.
"You know she's locked herself out of contact with everyone," he said calmly. "Just like you." Inside Harry's eyelids the darkness played, swirling with neon colors, fading into slivers of trinket silver that slithered than disappeared. He could feel the darkness's accompanying cold press against his skin, surrounding him and embracing. He had felt this, a few times before. It was what silence did to him.
"I miss her," Harry whispered. "When I went, I was so scared of missing her. And I did, madly. And when I came back… I still miss her. It's like I'm still so far away, scared of missing her but missing her so much it's starting to hurt like hell. I feel as if I'm still gone, and she's still so far out of my reach."
"Maybe…you could try talking to her, Harry. She can't avoid you forever. When you arrive back at Hogwarts… Just try talking to her. She's a smart girl."
"Hogwarts," Harry opened his eyes. "When do we go back?"
"Three days from today," Remus said. "Noon is when you'll be leaving. Dumbledore has some kind of ball and feast planned," Remus smiled slightly, his eyes twinkling faintly. "He's as happy as can be, you know, Harry. It's the first time I've ever seen him like this. I don't think he can be any prouder of you." Harry sighed, turning away to lie on his side.
"Funny," he said quietly. "I don't feel much like a hero. I fought to gain more, to let everyone and myself live happily for the rest of our lives… Yet, now that I won and came back, it doesn't feel like it matters anymore. I feel empty, vacant. I can't even pretend to be happy, just to show people--"
"Harry, don't do this to yourself," Remus interrupted, his voice sharp. Harry continued, ignoring him.
"You don't understand, Remus," Harry said. " I went to gain everything I could ever need. But it turns out I only lost all I could ever need or want. I lost that person I kept seeing as I fought, and only fought as hard as I did because I knew that I had to get back to her. I fought to come back, to live with her without barriers or restrictions that held our relationship so distant because of the threat of Voldemort coming after her. I fought for her," his voice severed, as he paused, closing his eyes tightly to keep the tears from slipping out. He tightly held the handful of the sheet he held in his grip, his knuckles turning white. His throat was closing up, just as before, his lungs heavy and filling with a painful suffocation from holding it back. It was painful to say it, what he held in his heart, but at the same time, it was release.
A sort of dreamy, misty release that stabbed deep within him.
"I fought for her. I fought for us. But now I only ended up losing; I'm no hero. Maybe I did kill Voldemort, that bastard. I erased the danger in my life, and in others, and now I can live happily without worrying about getting killed, or the people I love getting murdered. Now I can live, Remus. But I have to live without her. I have to live with that gap that I established between us, keeping us distant and apart. And I don't think I can. I don't think I can bear to."
"Harry, it's not your fault. Please understand that. I know you're smarter than this, I really do. You can't just keep lying there, wondering and piling all the bloody blame on yourself," Remus said, frustrated. "Stop being so weak, Harry. You're a hero. You saved millions of lives, doing what you did. No one could face him as bravely as you did, no one could have the nerve and spirit to defeat him. Have you seen the papers? Although they're damn annoying at times, when they caught word that you defeated him… Harry, everyone's absolutely delighted. They're praising you, so grateful to the Boy-Who-Lived. Be happy. For them, for yourself. Please." Harry stayed silent, the coldness of the room invading him. He could hear rain begin outside, tapping on his window, reminding of the night he had defeated Voldemort. The cold, icy rain. The bitter, biting cold. The thick darkness that enveloped the world, the moon that hung expectedly in the midnight sky. He heard Remus let out a deep sigh.
"Harry, you have to know this. There are some people we have to learn to live without. Sometimes…they are the
people who we think we need the most. But over time, we learn to move on, and what was once hard to do before becomes
easy. You think that you can't bear to live without her now, but just keep in mind that things change. People
change. Even Heroes."
"How do you know?" Harry asked. "How can you know that it becomes easy?"
"No one can tell you this without experience, Harry. If they do, then it means nothing; they don't understand it themselves. But I know because I've gone through it. I've lost people I thought I could never live without. But I'm still here. I'm still living." He paused, before he continued again, " your parents, Sirius. They meant a lot to me. Too much. And…it was hard, at first. I know that feeling, when you just want to throw up your hands and say that you give up. I know how it hurts, seeing things that remind you of them, and the fact that they're gone. It's hard. And it does hurts like hell." Harry remained silent, taking in the things Remus said. It was true, but he still had a feeling that Remus still did not quite understand. He knew that pain and loss could ease…over time.
But how was this going to turn out? He had something that never failed to remind him of his pain; her. She was still here. He would see her, her avoided and nervous gaze always averting from him. He would always managed to see her turning and walking away, even in his dreams. In a way, he felt abandoned.
Just like she did.
"It does," Harry said quietly. "No one ever knows pain until they know heartbreak and loss," he whispered, shutting his eyes.
"True as can be," Remus agreed, almost inaudible. He turned to look at Harry, observing the young boy. He was still deathly pale, drained of color. A moonbeam had managed to slip into the room, slicing out into the edge of the bed. The sliver glowed brightly, the darkness not managing to dim it in any way. The white beam looked pure, unsoiled and untouched. The darkness around it only made it to glow more brightly, the contrast of light and dark never clashing when it came to such things as this. Nature had its ways; one always won. There was a middle, but only rarely. But even when there was a middle, there was still a winner. As in a battle between good and evil. One can give a truce, saying that no one had won, both withdrawing from the battle. But once the other side had turned its back and was no longer in the shade of alarm, they came and attacked.
And there was victory. Whether it be a win for evil, or the good. There was still victory.
Giving one last glance at the heartbroken, young Hero, he stood up silently. Harry noticed, as he had heard the rustle of the sheets responding from the shifting and absence of the added weight. However, he did not open his eyes.
"Don't be so hard on yourself, Harry," Remus reminded him. With a sigh, he turned and walked towards the door. He turned the knob; the handle feeling cold pressed against his skin, and walked out as he shut the door quietly behind him.
Harry sighed, as soon as he heard the soft `click' of the door shutting. He let his hands relax, slowly letting go of the handfuls of sheets he had been holding tightly. He opened his eyes, staring at the moonbeam that lay across the edge of his bed.
Feeling his tiredness get to him, he turned, so that his back was flat against the cold sheets, and closed his eyes.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Harry hadn't awoken in time for breakfast, but he did make it to lunch. He had taken a shower and put on fresh clothes before going down to the dining room. They had looked at him surprise, but it soon faded into a smile, he noticed. He tried his best to smile back at them, but he knew that it looked just about as lame as it felt. Remus had put his hand on his shoulder, squeezed, then sat down beside him. Harry listened along to the quiet chatter, talking about their children and some occurrences that had happened quite a while ago. He ate weakly, eating about only half of the food on his plate.
Just then, he heard footsteps and he raised his eyes to see Hermione come in. With Matthew beside her. He met Harry's eyes before heading over to the table to sit down and eat. Hermione's gaze finally landed on Harry's, as their eyes locked each other for a mere second. Her dark brown eyes were darker now, more unreadable than before. Her face was pale, her brown waves messy. She looked surprised to see him, but turned away before he could search any more. Hermione sat down next to Molly, who happily greeted her with a wide smile. Hermione smiled back at her faintly, before casting her gaze down and picking up her fork.
Harry looked away, feeling that same swelling sensation inside him. Almost instantly he wanted to excuse himself and walk back to his room. He glanced at Remus, and he knew that Remus knew too. He gave him a warning but pleading look, asking him not to do exactly what he wanted to. So Harry just closed his eyes momentarily, trying to compose himself, before sighing softly and raising his pumpkin juice to his lips.
"Harry, Hermione," Molly said, in between laughter of two other members. Harry looked over at her, as he noticed Hermione doing the same. Molly was smiling, her red hair pulled into a loose bun.
"Dumbledore has informed me that in two days, when you return to Hogwarts, there will be a dance, rather, held in the honor of Harry's victory." She was practically beaming. Harry saw Hermione look down. "He has told me to insist that you go get new dress robes, in order for the event. Remus has already agreed to assist you on your trip to Diagon Alley." Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione had gotten there first.
"Mrs. Weasley, I don't think I need new dress robes. I still have my robes from last year, and they're still in pretty good condition." Molly waved her hand.
"Oh, nonsense. Harry and you both need new dress robes, and you will get them." Hermione tried to speak again, but Molly shot her a warning look that made her close her mouth and remain quiet. "Very well then. Remus will accompany you in a few hours to go to Madame Malkin's Robes For All Occasions. I have been informed that you have already have gotten some money out of Gringotts, and so I think the trip will be a fine one." She let out a little giggle. "Oh, this will be a spectacular one, I'm sure of it. Dumbledore left early to make the preparations himself. You two will have such a lovely time." Molly reached over for more pumpkin juice, as Harry looked over at Remus, who smiled back at him.
"Oh, and before I forget," she said, pouring in the sweet fluid. "Dumbledore is expecting you two to have the honor dance together, considering how close you are with each other." Hermione's eyes widened, as Harry's did the same. "He's already made the arrangements. Oh my," her eyes glittered with happiness. "You two will be just about the loveliest and most beautiful couple of the dance."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Remus walked in front, brushing past smiling people and keeping an eye on which stores they were passing. Harry and Hermione followed close behind, quiet. Many people stopped by, thanking Harry with a smile and shaking his hand eagerly as he just smiled faintly and told them that it was no problem. He felt odd, shaking their hands and seeing that twinkle of happiness in their eyes. The silence in which he and Hermione walked in, not a word uttered from either, made him think. Mostly his mind was coursing with thoughts of her, if he should say something to start a conversation. But at the same time, he did not want to speak to her. He knew that she would only answer with a short reply, still avoiding his gaze. And he didn't need that. He just wanted to look into her deep brown eyes again, get caught and suddenly swept away with the warmth she held deep inside. He still remembered how it was to get lost, sinking into the sensations she brought him, and the thoughts that ran through him of how much he loved her and how much he ever could. Never in his life had he ever thought that it would be he and her, walking silently and trying to keep their minds off their feelings and the happenings. He never thought it would be them trying to avoid each other, but at the same time wanting to be so close that it stung. He snuck a glance at her, her brown eyes dark and looking ahead. There was a cold, gentle breeze that whisked their way, making her brown waves blow softly. He looked at her longingly, feeling his throat tighten and his hands become icy.
When was this going to stop? When was it going to thin away and finally disappear? When was it going to be when he could laugh and talk to her, just as before? When was it going to be until she could look at him, and he could look at her without feeling this way?
She clung to her cloak tightly, the sky dark and the atmosphere slightly chilly. He tore his eyes away from her and looked ahead, watching Remus adjust his scarf. He saw people pointing and whispering at him, then cheering out or applauding as he passed. He would only smile weakly, trying to seem as if he appreciated it. He thought of how people called him a hero, saving other people's lives and killing the Dark Lord. Anyone could've done that, only he was chosen. He had to be the one to get most of the people he loved killed then risk his life to kill the murderer who begun it all. He had been accustomed to complaining, his years back, but as he grew older and became weaker but stronger at the same time, he knew that complaining would make no difference.
Although there were times when he wished he wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived.
But he knew that he could not escape it. His destiny. His identity. As badly as he wished or prayed that he was not the Harry Potter that always managed to make the headlines, he knew that he would always wake up to it, every single day. He was Harry Potter. All he had to do was learn to live with it.
He let out a sigh, feeling the cold chill send shivers once again. He tried to imagine how it would be, him and Hermione holding hands and smiling.
But even as he could imagine it, he did not want to.
Thinking of how it could've been and how it wasn't now, hurt too much to try to comprehend.
Finally, they entered Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. The place was lively, people, adults, children, were walking here and there, clutching brightly colored robes. People looked over at him and smiled, whispering and pointing. Harry pretended not to notice. Remus turned to both of them and grinned.
"Well then. I honestly have to tell you that I haven't a clue how to choose dress robes, but I trust that you two do?" Harry and Hermione nodded, as he glanced at her. Her eyes were fixed on Remus. Remus grinned, "alright then. Hermione, best of luck to you, as I shall accompany Harry. I have someplace to visit for some business a bit later, so if I'm not around, just wait outside and sit on the bench right out front. Will that be okay?"
"Yes," Hermione said. She looked over at Harry, and Harry felt that same rising, flapping sensation in his stomach that often happened when she looked or smiled at him. "I'll see you later, Harry," she said quietly, and Harry nodded at her, in a sense, quiet and slightly shocked. She looked at Remus, then turned and started walking towards the Witches section. Harry watched her, and turned away as that twisting in his gut started getting painful. Watching her walk away, Harry knew, would always leave him feeling this way because the memory was still all too clear. He had left her. She had turned and walked away from him. Remus turned to him, as they walked towards the Wizards' dress robes.
"You two were dead silent behind me, even with all that raucous of your fans." Harry looked up at him.
"What could I say, Remus? I mean… I told you. I told you how much it hurt to be around her this way." Remus sighed.
"I know it's hard, but someone's got to do something. And by someone, I mean you or Hermione."
"She hates me," he said gravely. "I know it." Remus looked at Harry incredulously.
"Are you absolutely out of your mind, Harry? She does not hate you, please believe me when I say that." They both entered into a large room filled with different colored robes, satin to silk, cotton to wool. Remus gave Harry a weak, reassuring smile.
"So, which will it be?"
++++++++++++++++++++++++
Harry held the bag in his hands, letting his gaze roam around the room for a brown-haired girl. But he was not met with a familiar sight, so with a sigh, he headed towards the door. Remus had already left, leaving him alone once he had chosen his robes, saying he had to go to that place he had been talking about visiting. Harry walked outside, the door swinging shut behind him. The cold rushed back to him, making him shiver and hold his cloak tightly to him. He looked around for the bench, and saw Hermione, staring straight ahead, a similar bag in her hands. Harry closed his eyes, gathering up his senses that hadn't gone and scattered around. He could feel that same feeling, the urge to turn and walk back into the store, but he ignored it and opened his eyes. He walked towards her, his heart beating loud but dully in his chest.
Her brown eyes met his as he sat down beside her. He looked into her eyes, for this time she did not turn away as abruptly. But as he tried to search her eyes, he found himself looking hard and confused. He could not read a thing. It was just as dark as before, but this time it seemed like a sea of emotions so mixed together it was hard to interpret. He smiled at her weakly.
"Hey," he whispered. Her face were pale, her cheeks red and her lips a shade of deep pink that he remembered back when they had gone out into the snow at Hogwarts. He couldn't help but feel his breath still catch in his throat; the stinging thought of how beautiful she still seemed to be in his eyes.
"Hey," she whispered back, before turning her gaze away. He let his gaze linger on her, noticing how tightly she clutched her bag between her fingers. He knew very well that this was uncomfortable, but even as painful as it was; he still liked being with her.
That feeling would never go away, he knew that. She was still the one he liked being with, no matter what. She was still the one who would haunt him at night, taunted him at day. Now she was only inches from him, but still so far away.
If only he could tell her that now, and make her believe without her turning away. He lowered his gaze to his own hands, pale and white from the cold. He looked up at the gray streets, the people walking by who, this time, did not seem to notice him. He could feel the cold kiss his cheeks and skin, feeling the bitter light wind pass through. He tried to swallow the stone in his throat, closing his eyes and then opening them back up again slowly. He took another look at her, her gaze staring ahead as if he wasn't even there. He felt a constricting bind in his stomach, strangling his lungs, the feeling of just standing up and walking away returning. Only, where was he to go? The dark room where he had locked himself in wasn't here. He could apparate, but Remus would go hysterical. He knew he couldn't, but just looking at her avoiding him... Being away from her was better than this. He couldn't stand the silence, the stillness. The cold bit at his skin and fingers, but that didn't seem to matter anymore. All he could see was her, like the years not too long ago. He felt a prickling in his throat, his mouth suddenly dry, as he felt as if he might just explode from his feelings and his urges to tell her what he had been thinking of. He wanted to tell her that he hadn't meant to hurt her, that he would never mean to. That she was still the one who kept his heart in her hands, though she might think she would've let it slip away. It was broken, but she was the only one who could mend it again.
He wanted to tell her that he still loved her just as much as before, and that he had heard her crying in her room. He wanted to tell her everything, to hold her, to release the bind that was placed around his heart. He was starting to suffocate, his nerves bursting and then dissolving into toxic in his veins. He looked down, then up at her again. He had to tell her, even if she wouldn't listen. He had to tell her.
So he did.
"Hermione," he said quietly, looking at her with his pleading dark emerald eyes. "I…I never meant to hurt you. I would never want to. I just…I just didn't even want to risk, or consider the fact of losing you." He watched her as her brown eyes trailed down to her hands, before she closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh that even he could not manage to hear. She opened them back up again, before turning her gaze slowly to him.
Her deep brown eyes were still as dark, hurt and pained. But this time, there was something else that he recognized but could not exactly place. He searched her eyes, waiting for a reply. She clutched her bag tightly with her hands.
"Harry," she said, her voice almost as soft as a whisper. "You don't have to apologize, I do. I'm sorry I hurt you because of what I said," she said, her eyes becoming glossy again. His heart lurched, calling out to her. "I'm sorry because I couldn't understand. I really am. I stay up at night…thinking, your words repeating in my head. I'm just so sorry, Harry," she said. Harry looked at her, his emerald eyes burning with hope.
"Hermione, I love you…you know that. We could just try again, and I--" Hermione shook her head, as Harry's words faded away into silence.
"No, Harry," she whispered. "We can't."
"Why not?" Harry asked, confused and hurt.
"Because… Can't you see? You've been cooped up in your room, barely coming down to meals because of me. That's what I did to you. I made you feel like--"
"No, no you didn't," Harry said, insisting. "Hermione, I did that because--"
"Because of me," she said, cutting him off. She wiped her eyes hastily, before speaking again. "Harry, please don't try to explain. I hurt you. I didn't treat you how you deserved to be treated; I didn't listen to your explanations… I didn't consider you."
"Hermione, don't do this," Harry said. "Please. Don't do this. Just don't." She smiled, faintly, reoccurring tears forming in her eyes.
"You deserve so much better, Harry," she said softly.
"No. No! No!" Harry said, raising his voice. He could feel people across the street and bystanders who were beginning to watch, but he didn't care. He didn't care. How could she be doing this again? How? How could she still not understand? Hermione's eyes pleaded at him sadly, glossy. He could feel his throat getting dry and suddenly parched, as his emerald eyes searched hers earnestly and desperately. His heart was beating now only dully, his mind racing. "How could you say that, Hermione?" he said to her, his voice hoarse. "How?"
She looked away, shutting her eyes as a tear rolled down her cheek.
"Harry, please," she said, almost in a whisper. Her voice was breaking and wavering greatly, not being able to withstand her tears and emotions.
"No, Hermione! No!" he said to her, feeling his lungs close up. He felt it all over again. Just as before. It was happening again. This was what he was afraid of. This was what he had tried to say to Remus, that he couldn't bear it again… But he could feel it. It was there, the loud, splintering crack thundering in his ears.
His heart was breaking all over again.
"Harry…please. Not here. Not now," she whispered. The biting cold swept through him, as if carrying his soul away. But he knew that taking his soul away from him would have been less painful. Nothing could be more painful than this. He swallowed hard, his eyes stinging but he was not willing to blink. He stared at her, her form, her face. Her eyes were closed and her cheeks were wet with bittersweet teardrops. Her pink lips were trembling, trying to keep it all back.
Harry knew that this hurt her too. But he wasn't sure if she was hurting as much as him. Surely if she was, she would want to be with him too? What was happening? What the hell was happening? Why was this happening all over again?
"How could there be anyone better, Hermione? How?" he asked her, standing up, his voice still slightly raised. "How could there possibly be anyone better? There isn't anyone else who could make me love her as much as I love you!" Now Harry was sure that everyone out on the street was watching. He could hear the silence, the ears that were attentive to their quarrel. He would've been irritated, but he was too caught up in it to care.
"Harry," Hermione said, finally opening her eyes. Another tear slid down her cheek as she made no move to wipe them away. "Please, just try to under-"
"No!" Harry yelled, his voice booming. "No! I won't try to understand! I can't understand, Hermione, can't you see that? Every night, I lay awake, thinking, trying to at least comprehend why you did what you did, but I can't understand, Hermione! I know I hurt you, but I was so damn worried and afraid that you were going to follow me or get yourself hurt, that I was selfish! I became so bloody selfish! But isn't anyone allowed that at least once in their life? To be selfish?"
She had closed her eyes again, tears falling from her eyes much faster now.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, shaking. "But I…I don't know…I just-"
Just then, Harry and her both heard shouts, and while Hermione quickly closed her eyes again, wiping away her tears hastily, Harry glanced at the direction the sudden noise was coming from. It was just then that he was aware of the mass of people watching them, huddled around in anticipation. Suddenly, he saw a blinding flashbulb blink. And then there were more shouts, of which he knew where from the Daily Prophet or some other newspaper or gossip magazine. He suddenly felt angry. He glared at all the onlookers, their audience, as he felt his hands clench into fists. He saw more lights go off, and strangers came rushing towards him, shouting his name and questions.
"Mr. Potter! What's going on with you and your girlfriend, Hermione Granger?"
"Harry! Are you two broken up?"
"Harry! Did she cheat on you with old flame Viktor Krum?"
"Is it true that she had an affair with him when you were away fighting Voldemort?" At that question, he felt something flare up inside him, as he heard people barricade Hermione with questions while snapping pictures also. He rushed towards the man who had asked that questions and grabbed the front of his robes. Harry's eyes were flashing, and in the background of all the raucous, he could hear Hermione call his name. But it was too far. Too distinct. He was too angry.
He swung his fist back as the man looked at him with wide eyes, but as soon as his hand was going to crash right into the man's flawless face, someone had pulled him away and he had missed. Someone was holding him by the shoulders, as he struggled to get at the reporters and nosy journalists. The crowd had roughened up even more, and the lights were blinking and flickering, blinding him.
"Harry! Harry!" he suddenly heard a familiar voice say. "Calm down. It's me, Remus! Stop struggling!" Harry relaxed only so that Remus managed to drag him out of the crowd. They tried to quickly walk through the mob, but they were grabbing him, as Remus held Harry firmly by his robes, leading him out.
"Where's Hermione?" Remus suddenly shouted. Harry felt his heart fall. His eyes quickly searched through the faces and cameras, but he could not find her. "Where is she?" Remus repeated, annoyed and frustrated.
"I…I don't know!" Harry replied, as Remus continued to drag him.
"I told you to stay with her!" he shouted over the other voices. Harry felt his throat suddenly become blocked, as his eyes frantically searched through the pack once again. Where was she? He pushed through the crowd and the grabbing hands, looking for her, and trying to listen if she was calling for him above all the yelling and shouting.
"Hermione!" Harry shouted, and he could hear Remus start to call for her also. "Hermione!" Just then, Harry felt someone grab his arm and pull him back as he tried to walk on. He tried to pull his arm away from the small, stout man, but he was holding on tightly and firmly.
"Let go!" he shouted at the man, "let go of me!" But the man wasn't listening, and was tugging on his arms forcefully.
"Harry! Is it true that you and Miss Granger were planning to elope-" Harry, realizing that he wasn't going to let him go, swung back his foot and kicked him hard on the shins. The man let go instantly, cursing and clutching his knee. Harry rushed forward, trying to follow Remus, though it was difficult to keep track of him now that Remus had let go of him.
Suddenly, he heard her. Above all the noise, he heard her. He heard her call his name. He halted in his steps, and the mad mob caught up to him again.
"Hermione!" he shouted, "Hermione! Where are you?" He searched through the sea of faces for one that he recognized, but they were all foreign to him. "Hermione!" he called again, "where are you?" Just then, someone stumbled out of the crowd and fell onto him, holding on tightly. He didn't need any more reassurance that it was her; he recognized her russet wavy hair, and the feeling of her clinging onto him seemed too familiar and made flares shoot up his body. He wrapped his arms around her firmly, pressing her to him, and tried to make his way out.
Once they had finally outrun the crowd by only a few yards, Remus and him took no time in apparating. Harry went first, with Hermione still in his arms, and then Remus.
Harry felt the solid and firm ground underneath him once again, as he slowly took in his surroundings. He sighed, closing his eyes and tightening his arms around her. His heart was beating hard and rapidly, booming in his ears and pounding through his veins. He could feel his throat almost close up once again, holding her, never wanting to let go. He could smell her fragrant and sweet scent fill his senses, bringing back memories. She felt so warm in his arms, so soft…so right. He felt his heart wretch and twist painfully inside, as he slowly pulled back and loosened his arms around her.
"Hermione?" he whispered. "We're here." She pulled back from him, and stepped back, her brown hair falling forwards and covering her face. He watched her silently as she raised her hands and wiped her cheeks, feeling the anger that had once erupted inside him quickly fade away. His once flashing green eyes softened at the sight of her. He took a step towards her, wanting to envelop her in his arms again and vow never to let go, but he swallowed hard as he felt the cold, hard reality hit him.
He was never going to get to hold her again.
Suddenly, Remus appeared by her side. His eyes quickly darted to Harry and then Hermione. Harry could see that Remus's eyes were dark, frustrated and angry.
"What happened back there?" Remus demanded. "Newspapers, reporters… How the hell did that happen?" Harry's eyes flashed to him.
"We got into an argument," Harry said, his voice hard as if on the edge of anger. He felt his rage rapidly catch up to him once again. He clenched his fists, "You left us alone, and we talked. We did just what you wanted. But it turns out that The Daily Prophet and twenty other newspapers just happened to also be walking that same street with their cameras and looking for another juicy story to parade on their front pages." Remus gave him a dark look, before he turned to Hermione. He leaned down and set his hands on her shoulder.
"Let me see," he said to her. Harry looked at them with puzzlement and confusion in his eyes. "Let me see it." But slowly, Hermione raised her hand and tucked her hair behind her ears. That was when he saw it.
Her eyes were still red and puffy from crying, her face pale. But on her smooth, milky cheek, was a wound that marred her skin. Along her cheek was a long, slender, deep and still bleeding cut. He stared at it in horror.
"How…how did that happen?" he asked quietly, not remembering someone getting to Hermione when they were pushing through the crowd. Her face had been to him, digging into his chest… That couldn't have possibly happened when she was with him.
"Rings," Remus said, before nodding and standing up again. He looked at Hermione sadly.
"Rings?" Harry asked, not understanding. "What do you mean?"
"What I mean is that a Wizard with rings probably did that to her," he said. "Most likely a wealthy one. Only wealthy Wizards could and would buy rings so dangerous and detrimental." Remus sat down heavily on a vibrant red armchair in the room, as Harry watched him.
"How did you see it?" Harry asked quietly, remembering that Hermione had been holding onto him and didn't let him look at her face.
"Before you were about to apparate. I saw it." Harry looked at Hermione, and saw that she was looking down at her feet, silent.
Suddenly, Molly Weasley came into the room with a smile on her face. But her grin faded as she saw the scene before her.
"I take it the trip went-"
"Molly," Remus said, cutting her off. His eyes were weary and he looked exhausted. "Could you please aid to Hermione? She received quite a cut when we were there." Molly looked at him in curiosity and worry, but she nodded and walked over to Hermione.
"Surely," she said, draping an arm over Hermione gently, and leading her out of the room. Harry stared after them, before looking at Remus.
He was looking at him sternly, his mouth pressed into a thin line.
"I'm going to ask you again, Harry," he asked in a hard voice that hinted his anger, "what happened when I was gone."
"We did just what you wanted us to do," he said, seething. "We talked."
"Harry, I come back and there's newspapers, reporters, gossip columnists barricading the place. And then I catch you about to beat the bloody pulp out of a man-"
"What does it matter?" Harry shouted, livid. "You left us alone! You could've prevented all of this!"
"What would they say," Remus asked him, his voice rising, "if they found out that you beat up a man just because you were angry? How would that make you look?"
"I don't care!" he yelled, "I don't care what the bloody newspapers say!"
"I know they say and ask antagonistic questions sometimes, but you can't just go and punch every person the media sends out to-"
"You don't know what they were asking or saying to me, Remus!" Harry shouted. "You don't know how it feels when you lay everything on the line again and the girl you love refuses it all and breaks you again! You don't know how it feels to be interrogated because people have a sick and disgusting joy of knowing that Harry Potter has a broken heart! You don't know how it feels to find out that you just gave the bloody newspapers and gossip columns a story without even knowing it! You don't know, Remus! You don't have a bloody clue, so don't lecture me if you don't know how it is to be in my shoes!" Remus looked at him with angry and frustrated eyes.
"You're right," he said to him. "I don't. I don't have a single clue as to how horrible it is to be Harry Potter. But that still doesn't excuse you from your actions. Even in the Wizarding world we have rules and restrictions! You can't just punch them whenever they come up to you. What would've happened if you did punch him, Harry? What would've happened if I let you punch him or if I hadn't gotten there in time? He could've pressed charges! You've been living here for years, Harry, you know better, I can't believe you could be so reckless-"
"Oh, come off it, Remus!" Harry yelled at him.
"No, Harry, you listen to me!" Remus bellowed loudly, standing up. "Even the Hero can't go around doing what he wants! He can't do things and expect to get let off easy just because he killed the biggest threat in our world! I know that you're angry with Hermione, but never, under any circumstances whatsoever does that excuse you from harming another person just because you were on the edge! Do you understand me?" Harry eyes flashed, gritting his teeth and his nails digging into his flesh.
"You're not my father!" Harry shouted, "and you will never even come close, so stop trying to act like it! I know what I'm doing; I know what I was about to do! I understand, Remus, okay? I understand and I don't need you to tell and lecture me about it! Got that, Remus? I don't need you telling me any of this! I don't need anyone!"
"Stop acting like a blasted spoiled brat, Harry!" he roared. "You do need us! Just because some girl broke your heart doesn't mean you've got to turn your back on the world! Just because she doesn't need you doesn't mean that you don't need her, or anyone else, for that matter! Just get over it, Harry! Stop acting like a damn prick, and listen for just once!"
"I'm done listening!" Harry yelled. "I'm so sick of people telling me what to do, expecting that I'm going to do it! And you're right, just because of some girl doesn't mean I should turn my back on the world, but have you ever considered, Remus, that the world turned its back on me first? Have you ever realized that it's just that I've finally seen it? And you're also right; I do need her! I was so prepared to spend the rest of my life with her, but you know what, I'm not the only one who left! She's the one that left me!" Remus shook his head.
"I thought you knew so much better, Harry. You've been famous for all your life! I would've thought that you would've grown to understand it, to try and comprehend just what the price was…but it seems that you've not been living in the real world, after all."
"Real world?" Harry shouted. "So I've been living in some fantasy world? Where my parents and my Godfather were murdered, and lives have been taken away just because of me? Where the girl I love denies me? Yeah, that's my fantasy world, Remus. I never want to go back to reality, ever!"
"Harry, you know-"
"You know what, Remus?" he said, furious. "Don't waste your breath. And your expectations, what you thought… Well, you thought wrong. You've caught me. The Hero, caught in the act. The Hero, playing the bad guy for a change. But I don't care. I don't care anymore. I don't care at all!" But as he turned to walk away, he saw who was standing in the doorway of the kitchen to the living room.
Molly Weasley looked at him with surprise, sadness and disappointment in her widened blue eyes. He could feel that his gaze was cold, but he could not let it fade away. He saw Hermione look at him, white and pale, horrified, shocked, upset and sad. Her brown, doleful eyes were dim and dark, watery and he watched as a tear slid down her cheek. Inside, he felt his heart twist inside painfully, calling out to him, but it was too far. He was already gone. There was nothing he could do anymore. Nothing.
"Harry," she whispered shakily, her brown eyes pleading at him, but he gave her an icy look and turned away. He briskly walked to the stairs and rushed up, disappearing as he walked up to his room.
Remus looked up at the stairs, his eyes unwavering. His glittering, angry eyes had faded into hurt, and pain, as he looked at Molly and Hermione. Molly frowned sadly, as Hermione turned and had walked back into the kitchen, crying. He sighed, sitting back down on the chair and covering his face with his hands.
Molly threw a sad look up towards the stairs, before looking one final time at Remus and walking back inside the kitchen.