Unofficial Portkey Archive

Summer Writing Series Challenge
Challenge: Non-songfic Songfic
Title: See the sun

Song used: Dido - See the Sun

He entered into a dreary darkness, the blinds were closed and the curtains drawn, there was no movement, she lay still. He walked over to the window with determination, drawing the material back to let the light flood into her morose bedroom. She whined pulling the blanket up over her head.

"Hermione?" he asked as he sat down next to where she lay.

"How'd you get in here, Harry?" she mumbled sullenly, "I locked the door."

"And you seriously think a door, a spell and a few wards would stop me from getting to you?" he asked in amazement. There was no response. "You need to get out of bed."

"No I don't, the bed loves me and I love the bed. Leave us be."

"Hermione, come on, you can't do this to yourself, it's been two weeks and as far as I'm aware you haven't left this room; it's not healthy." Silence "Take the blanket off your head," Nothing. "Hermione, either you take it off or I'll rip it off and take it into the next room!" he said, getting slightly irritated.

The bed moved as she began to stir. She removed the blanket slightly, revealing puffy red eyes that were full of sorrow. It was obvious that Hermione had been weeping a great deal since it happened. His heart sunk to see her like this.

"Oh, sweetie," he said, kissing her on the forehead and wrapping his arms around the blankets to her limp form. "Why are you doing this to yourself?" She stirred some more, freeing her arms so that she could hold on to him; burying her face into his neck as tears threatened to flow once more.

"Why does this keep happening to me?" she whispered solemnly in response. Harry tightened his hold on her; he hated to see her like this. He would have tracked the guy down and beaten him within an inch of his life if it hadn't been for the past. For in the past he had done this to her. He, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, had made her cry for constant days and nights. Of course she didn't know that he knew, but he did nonetheless.
They lay there for a while, arms wrapped around one another, Harry trying to offer as much comfort as he could muster to his wounded best friend.

"Right, come on, it's time to get up," he said, pulling out of her grip. She pulled the blanket back up over her head and mumbled something he couldn't quite make out. "I'm going in the next room to make breakfast. I expect you in there in 30 minutes, washed and dressed," he said in a dominant tone, "and if you're not, then I'll pick you up and carry you into that shower fully dressed! You hear me?"

More mumbles.

***
"Hey, do you feel any better?" he asked as she pushed the door open and entered the kitchen dressed in blue jeans and a beige shirt.

"Not really," she answered truthfully. Harry looked at her with sympathy andpointed a seat at the breakfast bar in her kitchen, which she took, shoulders slumped and head hung low. He placed a full English breakfast in front of her, which she picked at for a few minutes before deciding that she was actually hungry.

"So what happened?" Harry asked, eating his own breakfast next to her.

"He left," she answered flatly.

"Do you know why?"

"No," she lied; she knew exactly why he had left. He had left because of Harry.

"What a creep," Harry said, taking his plate over to the sink. "Hurry up with that, we're going out."

"Harry, I really don't want to," she pleaded miserably.

"Look, you haven't been outside for two weeks...you need some air. It will make you feel better, we're just walking, nothing to heavy, okay?"

"Fine," she said dejectedly, kicking herself for giving in to him; it was his fault she felt that way after all.

After Hermione finished her breakfast, Harry took her plate and put it in the sink. He had already put on his coat; it was a long and woollen and he often wore it in winter when they were in the muggle world.

"You better wrap up, it's quite nippy outside," he said, passing her a pair of gloves and a scarf.

When she was ready, Harry made sure the flat was locked before taking her hand in his. They apparated just outside of a village on the suburbs of London. The area around them was green and hilly. The skies were clear but it was a cold January morning and so the chilly wind was blowing in off the hills around them as they walked.

They paced up a hill in silence for quite a distance before Hermione opted to take a rest due to the stitch in her side. She sat on a bench as the wind wisped blowing her hair around in all directions. Harry stood in front of her before, lowering to a crouching position. His cheeks were red from the cold and Hermione could see the condensation of his breath.

"It'll be okay," he spoke quietly, making Hermione look up to meet his gaze.

"How do you know that?" she asked distantly.

"Because things like this happen. Time passes and it gets easier, you're hurting now and I understand that, I truly do, and I know you're feeling cold and empty but I promise you you'll see the sun again, I promise Hermione." He took her hand and looked earnestly into her eyes. Hermione smiled. It was only small and weak but it was something.

"Has anyone ever told you you're sweet?"

"Well, yes, lots of times actually. But it always been you so, I'm guessing it's a biased opinion." He smiled as she laughed--music to his ears. "Come on, it's freezing out here. Let's go to the pub and get a Butterbeer," he said, checking his watch. It was a Sunday afternoon and he knew that by now, Ron, Luna and Ginny would be in the Leaky Cauldron.

"I don't think I'm ready to face all the questions, Harry," Hermione spoke softly, head bent low. Harry reached his hand to her chin, pulling it up.

"You're gonna have to face the questions sometime, and the more you talk about it the easier it will get."

***
"Hey guys, look who I found," Harry said, entering the pub and approaching the table where the Weasleys and Luna were seated.

"Hermione!" Ginny called, taking her friend and hugging her tightly, "are you okay?"

"Yeah I'll be fine, can I-um-borrow you for a second?" she asked quietly, handing her coat to Harry, who hung it on the back of a chair.

"Sure," Ginny answered taking Hermione's hand and heading towards the ladies' toilets.

"So what's going on?" Ginny asked, reading into Hermione's request, "are you sure you're okay?"

"No, I'm dying of a broken heart, and I know that sounds melodramatic, but it's true. I don't think I can take this feeling much longer," Hermione spoke in an outburst.

"This isn't about William, is it?" Ginny asked knowingly.

"Well it is, kind of, he left because of-um…"

"Harry?"

"Yeah," a glazed look crossed her eyes. "He said he recognised the sentiment I held for him, whatever that's supposed to mean. Oh, Ginny, why can't I get over this? He's already broken my heart once, how is it he keeps doing it without knowing?"

***
Hermione took her wand out and opened the door to her flat. She entered, hanging her coat up on the hook by the door. Harry followed suit. She walked to the bedroom, shutting the door behind her while Harry made his way to the living room.

"Incendio." He lit a roaring fire up in the grate, sitting to watch the flames flicker. Hermione entered the room moments later in jogging pants and a long black jumper.

"Black? Are you mourning the loss of this guy for Merlin's sake?" Harry asked, agitated.

"Yes I am, actually!" Hermione spat back, "yet another person deciding that they don't want me." Harry's heart sunk once again; he knew that this was directed at him.

"Yeah, well he wasn't anywhere good enough for you, anyway," Harry replied, his voice rising.

"You said you liked this one."

"Yeah, well I lied. He was a pretentious Wanker in actual fact and I hated him from the moment I saw him. Just ask Ron."

"Well, I'm sorry if I got it wrong again. We can't all get it right like you and your perfect Elizabeth!" Hermione was getting angry; she couldn't believe he was acting so condescending.

"Elizabeth? Bloody hell, Hermione, we split up four bleeding weeks ago." Hermione was startled, how hadn't she known?

"Wh--what happened?"

"It didn't work out."

"But why, you said she was great."

"Yeah, she was, she is, but there's no point being with somebody that you don't love Hermione; it's a waste of time." Harry turned his back on her and collapsed down on to the couch, running his finger through his hair. "I don't see why this guy had such an effect on you anyway; you were only with him for six months. Was it that serious?" he asked, his voice a little more calm.

"I guess not," Hermione said, sitting down.

"Did you love him?"

"Yes. No. I don't know," she spoke slowly in realisation. "I think I was in love with the idea of being in love with him…if that makes any sense."

"Not really."

"I just wanted to be loved. I keep thinking that that's not a big thing to ask for, but I can't seem to get it right." Harry turned his gaze from the fire to look at her. He so desperately wanted to tell her.

"It's not a big thing to ask for," he whispered quietly, "but tomorrow's another day and love will eventually find you." Hermione rolled her eyes and snorted softly.

"Oh it found me all right, knocked me off my bloody feet," she said quietly, looking down at her hands before looking back up at him on the other side of the couch. "You should probably go." Harry stood slowly, saddened by her request and turned to leave.

"How can you be so sure?" She rushed to him as he opened the door.

"Of what?"

"That life will get better?"

"Because pain's the only way to happiness."

"Why?" she asked, her voicing catching in her throat.

"Because that's the only way we learn. We all learn through our mistakes, Hermione," he replied solemnly, "I'd know, I do it enough."

"And what've you learnt?" Harry gathered together up all the courage he could find shutting the door before answering.

"That life is harsh and cold, but it's something you have to deal with. You can get caught up in things that you can't control, but you're forced to, if not for your own good but for the good of others. You have to stay positive and look to happier times, stand by your mistakes, even if you think they may have been the wrong choices because if nothing else you can learn from them…."

"Harry, What have you learnt?" Hermione asked again, intense emotion building within her. He opened and closed his mouth a few times trying to form a response.

"I learned that my best friend fell in love with me," he spoke slowly, "and I ignored it because I thought in the long run it would be for the better, my intentions were good but they were wrong. I learnt that you can't substitute love for one person with another because you don't want that original person to get hurt and most importantly…I've learnt that I'm still in love with you."

Tears stained each of their faces as they stared at each other, all the emotion they had held to clung in the air between them.

"Harry," Hermione cried holding out her arms to him desperately, which he quickly filled after a few strides across the room. "You promised."

"I promise," he spoke harshly before capturing her lips with his own.

See the Sun - Dido

I'm comin' 'round to open the blinds
You can't hide here any longer
My God you need to rinse those puffy eyes
You can't last here any longer

And you probably don't want to hear tomorrow's another day
Well I promise you you'll see the sun again
And you're asking me why pain's the only way to happiness
And I promise you you'll see the sun again
And I promise you you'll see the sun again
And I promise you you'll see the sun again
And I promise you you'll see the sun again
I promise you you'll see the sun again

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