Chapter 12: Something I Can Never Have
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Yay, he's back! A round of applause for my beta Another for a job well done.
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I still recall the taste of my tears.
Echoing your voice just like the ringing in my ears.
My favorite dreams of you still wash ashore.
Scraping through my head 'till I don't want to sleep anymore.
Make this all go away.
You make this all go away.
I'm down to just one thing.
And I'm starting to scare myself.
Make this all go away.
You make this all go away.
I just want something.
I just want something I can never have.
-Nine Inch Nails's Something I can never have
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He was so close.
He could count every little freckle on her cheeks and even the ones that adorned the delicate tip of her nose.
He could make out each of her eyelashes, so long and thick and soft that they left him wondering how they would feel if his cheek were to graze against them.
He could feel her hot breath on his lips.
He could see how perfectly her small body molded against his.
`Meant.To.Be'
Time had no meaning anymore… this moment could have lasted for days, hours, minutes, seconds.
Nothing else mattered.
There was no other sound but the sound of her breathing.
There was no other smell but the scent of her skin.
There was no other sight but that of her beautiful face.
And there was no other gravitational pull in the universe but the one Hermione's lips held on him.
Harry remembered that not so long ago, he had wondered what the flavor of her lip-gloss was. Would she taste like chocolate? Watermelon? Cherry? Maybe even strawberries?
`Only one way to find out'
Truth be told, it was not really that important.
Harry knew-as he knew that the sun always followed the moon-that her lips would taste delicious.
Hermione had not moved an inch, looking intensely at Harry's face, her eyes a blur of a brown and golden shade darker than he remembered ever seeing them. For a fraction of a second, he was reminded of the way a moth looked at a flame.
Hypnotized.
Deadly.
This moment was simultaneously the most scary and exhilarating instant in Harry's life. How was it possible to feel so much for one person? Harry almost laughed at the thought of one kiss being able to make up for seventeen years of wrongdoings, but he knew instinctively that with one kiss… HER kiss… every little shitty deal life had handed to him would be forgotten.
And finally, just when his lips were about graze hers…
"HERMIONE!"
Hermione turned her head sharply toward the source of the sound before Harry's lips ever reach hers and instead landed clumsily on her cheek.
Harry released a trembling sight as he felt his strength leaving him. His arms gave in, and he let the full weight of his body fall on hers, his forehead resting on her soft hair, that had fallen like a halo around her head.
"HERMIONE! HERMIONE, WHERE ARE YOU?"
Reality hit him like a brick to the head.
He could now feel the drops of sweat that had pooled on his lower back… he could smell the grass underneath them… and most of all, he could see the look of utter horror in Hermione's face.
"HERMIONE!"
The intruding voice was coming closer, and with it, the realization that he had been about to commit what may very well have been the worst mistake of his life.
"That's Roger," he heard Hermione whisper, her voice hoarse and slightly strained. He once again used his arms to support his weight and moved back just enough to look down at his best friend.
Hermione had turned her head around, and was now looking at his intently. Her cheeks were flushed a deep red, the sweat glistened on her skin like morning dew, and her eyes were dark and unreadable.
`She's ashamed.'
`She's excited.'
`I repulse her.'
`I attract her.'
Harry tried to find the courage to look her straight into those mesmerizing eyes.
`Then why isn't she pushing you?'
`Because she's scared…'
"HERMIONE!"
Why isn't she moving?'
`I… I don't know.'
`Tell her how you feel, Harry!'
`I… I can't.'
`Tell her you love her!'
`I… I…'
"I… I… I'm sorry," Harry finally whispered, refusing to meet her eyes. He pushed himself from the ground, immediately missing the warmth that her soft body provided him with. He wiped his hands on his trousers and offered his right hand to help her up.
A few seconds passed before he felt Hermione grabbed his outstretched hand. Still avoiding her penetrating gaze, he helped her to stand up.
"I'm… I'm sorry," Harry repeated clumsily, letting go of her hand. He listened to his heart thundering in his ears as she beat the dirt out of her clothes.
"Don't mention it," Hermione whispered, her voice sounding not at all like her own, "it was my fault. I… I messed up the step."
Suddenly, Hermione once again lost her balance. Harry's Quidditch trained reflexes were activated, and he immediately grabbed her by her upper arms and pulled her toward him to keep her from falling.
The contact lasted a mere second, but goose bumps broke up and down his arms with that chaste touch. Their eyes locked momentarily before Harry forced himself to look away. Those eyes that had held a magnetic pull on him just moments ago now tormented him, and he wondered if he would ever look into those eyes again without losing himself completely in them.
Harry let go as soon as she was steady on her feet. He barely wondered why Hermione had taken a tentative step back without taking her eyes off him.
Finally, Harry saw Roger walking toward them.
"There you are! I was starting to get worried!" Roger said, smiling widely at Hermione, and simultaneously throwing a very unfriendly look at Harry. He had to give points to Roger… how he could do both things at the same time was beyond Harry.
"W-w-what is it?" Hermione stuttered slightly while looking at the ground. Harry turned around before realizing Hermione was avoiding crossing gazes with both of them. Harry walked a few feet away and picked his discarded Firebolt from the ground, flinging it over his shoulder unceremoniously, trying to ignore the growing pressure in his chest.
"Oh," Roger said, his smile faltering, "We were supposed to meet in the library. We were going to work on our Ancient Runes lesson together."
Harry thought he should have felt delighted that Hermione had skipped about her encounter with Roger to be with him. But the only thing he managed to feel was the intense desire to have the earth open up and swallow him.
The expression of her face when she realized he was going to kiss her was permanently recorded into his brain. Was that confusion he saw in her eyes? Shock? Disgust?
"Oh, right… I… I… I… I was on the Quidditch field and… and…I… I… I was riding Harry… I mean… Harry's broom… and…" Hermione tried to explain, nervously running her hands through her wild hair and fidgeting with the hem of her tank top, bringing it down so no millimeter of her midriff was exposed.
`I've never seen her so nervous.'
`I bet she's terrified of me.'
"Don't worry about it, love. You can make it up to me later," Roger said, going back to his million-dollar smile, winking playfully at her.
`I.am.going.to.kill.the.bloody.git.'
Harry did his best not to look at the couple standing next to him.
"Besides, I came here to let you know that McGonagall is looking for us," Roger continued, closing the distance between him and Hermione before resting his arm over her shoulders.
For an instant, Harry thought Hermione seemed uncomfortable with Roger's nearness, but he quickly dismissed the thought as the ramblings of a lovesick fool.
"She is?" Hermione asked absently. There must have been something very interesting in her trainers for her eyes seemed to be stuck to them.
"Yeah. Flitwick needs help in the Great Hall with the decorations," Roger added, his thumb starting to lazily trace circles on Hermione's shoulder.
Harry felt dizzy and breathless, as if the air had been knocked right out of his lungs.
"Um… yeah… I… I guess we better go then," Hermione mumbled, still looking down at the ground.
A few seconds of heavy silence fell over them, until Hermione asked Harry, "You coming?"
He raised his head to look at her; she still refused to meet his eyes, focusing instead on her shoes.
"In a minute," Harry mumbled. The truth was he did not quite trust his legs to work just yet.
Harry barely noticed Roger's frown before the Head Boy took Hermione's hand in his own and started guiding her back into the castle.
He watched without seeing as the couple started walking away, Roger practically dragging Hermione, whose legs apparently were betraying her.
He wondered if their friendship would ever be the same.
Probably not.
Hermione will probably always remember the night her good friend had taken advantage of her vulnerable position and tried to snog her in the school grounds, and she will never be truly comfortable to be alone with him.
And as for him… could he survive watching her like this… hand in hand with another man?
Probably not.
And in that state of silent acceptance, Harry realized that, surprisingly, the anger that had been directed at Roger had disappeared.
The best man had won.
And Harry loved Hermione way too much to ruin this for her.
He just wanted her to be happy… even if it wasn't with him.
"Hey, Hermione!" he called when they were still within earshot. Hermione quickly stopped and turned sharply around on her heel to look at him, her brilliant eyes magnetic even in the distance.
"What do you want, Harry?" she asked softly in a voice that belonged to a stranger. Roger's eyes moved from Hermione to Harry and back again in silent inquiry.
"Let's not wait another seven years for a second ride," Harry said, managing to give a small smile, but sincere, smile.
In the darkness, he could see Hermione returning his smile. She nodded, and turned, slowly walking back into the castle with Roger next to her. The blonde sent one last look of puzzlement Harry's way before returning his attention to his beautiful companion.
Harry couldn't take his eyes off them until they disappeared through the castle doors.
And with them, the hope that he had finally found what had always been denied to him.
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25 minutes later…
Gryffindor Common Room
"Merlin, where is he?" Ron groaned, resting his head in his hands. Luna, Ginny, Neville and Ron had been watching Harry and Hermione on the Quidditch pitch from one of the common room's windows, but had lost track of them when the couple had started walking back toward the castle.
Thirty minutes later, and still there was no trace of them. The four friends were now alone in the common room, and it was nearing midnight.
"Maybe he pulled her into a closet and they're snogging each other senseless," Ginny said with a dreamy smile. Neville could only look at her, and smiled.
"I have to go back to my dorm," Luna yawned, squeezing Ron's shoulder as she added, "Are you okay, love?"
Sounding harsher than he intended, Ron replied, "I'll be fine when I find out how that little trick we just pulled worked!"
The infinitely patient Luna just looked at him with her glassy blue eyes and a look of understanding she reserved only for him. Caressing her cheek ever so slightly with his calloused thumb, Ron's eyes asked for forgiveness.
"I'm sorry, Luna. I'm just a little nervous… Harry really needs this to…"
He didn't get to finish the sentence as the Fat Lady portrait opened and Harry stepped inside, looking like something Crookshanks had dragged in.
"Where were you?" Ron asked, frowning slightly, hoping Hermione was about to walk in behind Harry and feeling rather disappointed when the door closed behind his best friend.
"Around," Harry mumbled, his eyes on the floor as he dragged his feet toward the stairs to the boy's dormitory, the Firebolt leaving a deep dent in the rug as he lazily hauled it behind him.
The four friends shared a worried look. This wasn't exactly the dizzyingly happy Harry they had hoped to greet.
"Harry, what happened?" Ginny asked, getting up from her chair and standing next to her brother.
"What do you mean what happened?" Harry replied absently.
"Between you and you know who. We saw you flying together," Neville answered for her.
"Voldemort?" Harry said bitterly as he decided to continue on his way and tried to walk past them. Ron ignored the slight shiver at the sound of the Dark Lord's name; he wasn't going to have any of that. He stood up quickly from the sofa and grabbed Harry by the arm to stop him.
"Not that you-know-who… we're asking about the one that can drive you crazy with just one smile," Ron said in a whisper.
Harry looked to his right at Ron, and sighed. There was no denying the fact that Ron and the others had expected something magical to happen between him and Hermione today. Too bad they were going to be sorely disappointed.
Was it evil of him to actually be a bit glad that he wasn't the only one whose bubble had burst tonight?
"Yeah, we went for a ride," was the only thing that Harry managed to answer as he wriggled himself out of Ron's vice grip.
"And?" Luna asked, her usually dreamy voice flooded with graveness.
"And Roger came and called her… and she went with him…" Harry mumbled as he started up the stairs. He didn't feel like thinking about what happened, much less talk about it… and he definitely didn't feel like sharing the fact that Hermione had rejected his kiss.
"Blimey. That pompous son of a…" Ron hissed as they watched helplessly the broken man making his way back to his room. But none of them knew what to say to make it all better.
They had been sure their "plan" was going to work, or at least give them a bit of progress… but it seemed to have blown up in their faces.
Surprisingly, it was Neville who hit the nail in the head. Before Harry reached the third step, the young man asked, "Harry, did you tell her?"
"Tell her WHAT?" Harry snapped, his eyes flashing dangerously. He was beginning to feel angry at nothing in particular.
"How you feel about her," Ron added seriously, guessing at Neville's line of questioning.
Harry's blood boiled in his veins, and he couldn't bite his tongue before exploding, "WHAT THE HELL WAS I SUPPOSE TO SAY? "Hey, Hermione, I drank Ron's Love Potion No. 9 by mistake and NOW I AM HEAD OVER HEELS IN LOVE WITH YOU. But it could have been worst…I COULD HAVE BEEN LOOKING AT RON WHEN I WAS DRINKING IT!!!""
"But Harry…!" Ginny started, but was quickly silenced by the glare he threw her way.
"But Harry NOTHING, Ginny!" Harry screamed.
It wasn't until he saw the brightness of tears shining in her brown eyes as Ginny took a step back that he felt something close to shame. He was being unfair; they weren't responsible for him drinking he potion. He was taking it out on the wrong people. They had meant well. If there was someone to blame for making a mess of everything, it was himself.
Harry ran his hands through his unruly black hair and took a deep breath before speaking, "Look, I'm sorry… I just… I want this day to end! I want to wake from the fucking nightmare that's been my entire week! I know… I know you meant well, but… I just can't deal with this right now."
"I want her… and I can't have her," he whispered, looking as imposing as a child's broken doll. He started to go up the steps slowly and heavily, as if the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders.
The four friends had been rendered speechless. This wasn't supposed to happen.
"I'm going to bed," was the last thing Harry said before he disappeared from their sight.
It was a good couple of minutes before any of them could speak.
"Next time, let's follow my suggestion and bind Roger for a couple of hours," Ron mumbled angrily, wishing he could have convinced his friends into stunning Roger and locking him in a cupboard.
"Do you think there's going to be a next time?" Neville sighed.
Ginny exchanged a knowing glance with her brother. She knew exactly what he was thinking.
"There has to be a next time…" she answered for her brother, instinctively hugging Neville for support and resting her head on the crook of his neck.
Everyone had expected Luna to add something, but she remained oddly silent, her face scrunched up as if she was mentally debating something.
"What is it, hon?" Ron asked her softly.
"If he had drank the potion while looking at you… would that have made him an homosexual?" Luna asked out-of-the-blue.
When his girlfriend started debating sexual orientations, it was a clear signal that it was time to call it quits.
"I'll walk you back to your dorm… you need to sleep," Ron said with a sigh, putting his arm over Luna's shoulders and guiding her toward the door. With a heavy heart, he left the common room, pondering if maybe it is too late for Harry and Hermione.
If he only had Hermione's side of the story…
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Later…
Harry didn't know how long he had been lying on the bed when he suddenly felt a weight on the mattress next to him. He opened his eyes groggily; his surroundings were just a blur of undulating shapes and shadows. Sitting up on the bed, Harry was about to reach the night table for his glasses when he felt a delicate hand grabbed him by the wrist.
"Harry," a voice he was all-too-familiar with whispered from somewhere very close to his ear.
"H-H-Hermione?" Harry stuttered, not really needing an answer. He looked to his right and tried to focus. Indeed, his female best friend was lying on the bed next to him, her hand still locked around his wrist.
`What is she doing here?'
Hermione was still dressed in the jeans and tee she had on when they were in the Quidditch pitch. Her curls were framing her face in such a way that made Harry gulped loudly. The realization that he was in bed with the object of his obsession while wearing only a pair of boxers make the heat travel to his cheeks, and self-consciously he tried to pull the covers and hide underneath them.
`Hermione… in my bed. In.My.Bed.'
To his utter shock, Hermione sat on the bed and pushed him back until he was lying down again. Before he could even ask her what was the piece of information she had found in her nightly reading that could not wait till morning, he watched as she pulled the covers away from his body, exposing him. And before he could verify if this was another Voldemort plot to drive him into a catatonic state, Hermione straddled him, her knees on each side of his body, her exquisite weight effectively trapping him underneath.
`Oh.Dear.Lord.'
"H-H-Hermione… w-w-what are y-you d-d-doing?" Harry stammered, trying to force the blood to stay on the upper part of his body. It wasn't an easy task.
`…'
"Harry, what were you going to do tonight?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"When?" he croaked. Tonight? How was he supposed to remember what he was going to do tonight… he could hardly remember his name!
"Tonight… when we were dancing," she replied smoothly. He could hear the amusement in her voice, and it drove him mad. To make things worst, she shifted her weight, putting even more pressure under her and causing him to roll his eyes at the delicious contact.
"Don't," Harry hissed, placing his hands on her hips to still her.
"Don't what?" she asked innocently.
"Be still."
"Why?"
"Because," Harry started, feeling rather ashamed but being rendered incapable of stringing a coherent lie, "because I'm just flesh and blood."
He heard her laughter before she replied, "What do you mean by that?"
When he got her to be still (or was it the other way around), Harry dared to look at her from his position on the bed and with a hoarse voice asked, "Why are you really here?"
Hermione lowered her head until she was just a few inches away from his face. He bit his lip, his body betraying him in more ways than one as the fabric of her clothes tortured his upper body as much as she was torturing his lower body.
`I can't. I can't. This is Hermione. I can't…'
"I.want.to.know.what.you.were.going.to.do.tonight."
"Tonight? I-I-I don't know what… mmm… what you mmm talking about," Harry replied, closing his eyes and trying his best to concentrate on anything but the girl pining him to the bed.
He felt her close the distance between them, until he could taste the air she breathed inside his own mouth, and the curls around her face now cascaded around him, tickling his cheeks slightly.
"Oh, I think you know," Hermione whispered, taking his hands in hers and drawing them over his head, until his knuckles grazed the headboard.
He had never been in a more vulnerable position, and yet, he wasn't scared because he didn't trust her… but because he didn't trust himself around her.
"Hermione," Harry groaned, a very primitive sound he had never heard coming out of his lips. He opened his eyes, and what little he could see was enough to take his breath away.
Again, he couldn't help but think that those eyes were one day going to be the death of him.
`Tell her!'
`… I can't …!'
`Why?'
`Because this is my best friend!'
`She's in our bed! Straddling you! Touching you! Don't you get it, you dolt?'
`Get what?'
`That she wants to be MORE than your best friend!'
She had snuck into his bed in the middle of the night.
She pinned him against the bed.
She was touching him and torturing… and she seemed to be happy with the results.
`Sweet Merlin, she wants me!'
And he couldn't have been any happier.
"There's something you need to know," Harry whispered hoarsely, trying to stop the shivers of anticipation running up and down his body and fighting the urge to push his hips upwards. He had enough working neurons to free one of his hands from her teasing grip and cup her cheek ever so delicately.
"Yes, Harry?" she whispered, her voice showing that she knew she had already triumphed over his will.
The look in her eyes was nothing short of smoldering, and for a while, nothing but the sounds of his harsh breathing could be heard. He wanted to tell her how he felt about her so much, and yet, his voice failed him with every try.
`Hermione doesn't want you to tell her.'
`She wants you to SHOW her.'
And by God, he wanted to show her so badly it hurt.
Placing his hand behind her head, Harry closed his eyes and pushed his head forward at the same time he applied gentle pressure to her neck, pulling her toward him.
He dreamt about the moment his lips touched hers…
But his lips grazed nothing but air.
Harry opened his eyes with a start and sat upright in bed. His chest ached, and the sheets were tangled like shackles around his legs. Searching his bed, a groan came from deep within himself.
He was alone.
It had been nothing but a dream.
`Great. That's just great. She not only haunts you every day, but you go and dream about her. Freaking awesome.'
Although, he had to admit, it had been a pretty good dream. Harry ran his hand through his messy hair, which was drenched with what, he guessed, was sweat. Even his boxers seemed to be sticking to his body in a very uncomfortable manner.
`Don't tell me I got to scourgify myself! I'm so pathetic,' Harry thought with embarrassment as he wiped a particularly big bead of perspiration from his body.
But it felt strange… it was bulkier than sweat. He brought his hand up to his nose and sniffed. It smelled differently too… bitter… metallic. He had smelled this before, but he couldn't quite remember when and where.
Six years old.
A slap from Uncle Vernon.
Two teeth missing.
The thick and heavy liquid filling his mouth.
And he remembered.
With a strangled gasp, Harry reached to his left and grabbed his wand from the night table, "Lumos".
Only to find he was dripping wet with blood.
And it was not just his body… the sheets, the pillows… even the bed curtains were drenched in blood, making them almost translucent in the dim light.
He flipped the curtains open, jumped off the bed, and was ready to call for his roommates when an unexpected sight greeted him.
Their beds… they were in the same state his was in… drenched in blood… and dripping with heavier things.
Panic gripped him in the worst kind of way. He started screaming for them, but he got no reply aside from the echo of his voice bouncing on the room's walls. He quickly recovered the use of his legs and ran toward the door. Slamming it open, he quickly stepped outside to call for help when…
He realized he wasn't standing at the top of the stairs… but by the entrance of the Great Hall.
Or at least, it seemed like the Great Hall. There was hardly enough light in the room to really be sure.
`What in bloody blazes is going on here?'
Harry raised his hand and whispered, "Lumos Solara" and a bright beam of light shot from his wand and illuminated the room.
It was a vision from his worst nightmares.
Harry fell to his knees with a whimper, feeling as if a giant hand had punched him in the middle of the stomach, knocking all the air out of him. His wand fell to the floor with a clink, forgotten and abandoned.
The Great Hall was in a similar state as his room, bloodstains splattered on the walls, the floor and the roof an awful shade of red.
But there was an addition to this room that truly terrified him.
`This is not happening!'
There were bodies hanging from the ceiling. He could recognize the unruly red hair of his best friend, Ron, and the round-face of the once smiling Neville, and the long flaming hair of Ginny, and the blond locks of Luna… he could also see the others: Dean, Seamus, Lavender, Parvati, Roger, Justin, Ernie, Colin… they were all here… hanging from the ceiling by thin tendrils that looked awfully organic. Their faces were pale, their skin a dreadful shade of gray… and as still as the dead.
Harry's eyes moved downwards and a whine of panic rose in his head not unlike the one he felt on that fateful night at the end of his fifth year. He tried to scream, but no sound came from his lips. He tried to move, to get up from the floor and run, but his body was not working anymore.
`THIS IS NOT HAPPENING!'
His eyes were locked on Hermione's figure; she was caught up in what… for lack of a better term… was a giant spider web. It went from one side of the room to the other, and she was caught right in the middle of it, her arms raised over her head, her knees pressed tightly together, her head hanging limply to her side, her cascading curls hiding her face from Harry.
Rendered immobile by some powerful force he couldn't describe, Harry saw as a glowing red orb appeared over her head.
Hermione looked so small, so vulnerable.
Like a prey waiting for her predator.
`GOD, NO! RUN! HERMIONE! GET AWAY FROM HERE! GO!'
The orb pulsed more brightly. He could now hear a small humming sound coming from the sphere.
`NO! NO!!! SOMEBODY… ANYBODY… HELP HER, PLEASE!'
The cold came at him like a tidal wave, piercing his flesh and freezing his very bones. A graying mist had started to exude out of the orb, and the wind grew until the breeze became a whirling tornado that surrounded Hermione.
Harry struggled against the cold and the wind to keep his eyes open, but he doubted he could have closed them even if he had wanted to.
`Somebody… please… please help her…'
He saw as translucent arms appeared out of thin air, and started clawing at Hermione's body. She raised her head slightly, her eyes still closed. She didn't struggle against her bindings. She was just standing still, either too stunned by what was happening or too weak to do anything about it.
`Come on, Mione… wake up, love… you've got to run now… you've got to get out of here…'
The hum was replaced by the sound of actual voices. He couldn't make out the words, but he found he didn't need to understand to realize that the situation was progressing from bad to worse.
Hermione opened her eyes with a start, and Harry choke on his scream. Her eyes were not the color of warm honey and chocolate he had gazed upon for the last seven years, but silver, metallic and mirror-like.
And then, she spoke… and her voice was one with the voices from the mist.
"Time's up."
The mist closed around her, swallowing her completely, and a gut-wrenching scream echoed in the hall.
Harry felt himself being spattered with something warm and heavy …
And he knew… he just knew that the liquid that he could now taste in his mouth… that he now could feel in his nostrils… that had now fallen over his eyes and blinded him …
… was his beloved's blood.
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Well, I bet you want to send a couple of insults/death threats my way… you are welcome to do so! I just ask you to have a little faith in me… everything will be explained in due time. Oh, this chapter was made thanks to one of the most angsty songs ever to be written: Nine Inch Nails's "Something I can never have" What an anthem!
Let me know what you think of this! PLEASE!
One of the reasons this chapter took so much time was that I was overwhelmed by the response to the last chapter. I just have to say: THANK YOU SO MUCH! I'm… I'm still shocked that so many people liked it! Thank you for the kind words and the encouragement! It is my true wish not to disappoint any of you in the end.
Adieu,
Anasazi
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