Floodgates

Disclaimer: I disclaim. Nothing is mine really… ‘cept the plot thing

A/N: Based on the song “What I really meant to say.” By Cyndi Thompson, so it’s a little song ficish… but not really… but it is… but not really.

It had been seven years since they have seen each other, face to face. Occasionally, she’d see him on some odd paper with his face plastered to the front. It’d read something like ‘POTTER’S NEW GIRLFRIEND’ then it’d also include some photo with him snogging some woman that he’d castaway a week later like a pair of old jeans. She always tried to ignore but sometimes it was just too much. It was always her regret that she had never told him about how she felt about him. It was always ‘someday’ or ‘maybe later’. She feared one of these days the headline would be ‘POTTER’S WIFE’. And then they’d show a photograph of Harry and some beautiful woman he found vacationing in the Bahamas standing at the altar.

There were reasons why they haven’t seen each other for seven years. An extended argument they called it. It was more like the Seven Year War all over again. The argument itself was rarely discussed. The third of the three musketeers, Ron Weasley was like a bridge for the two of them. Suffice to say, they reached a boiling point at their relationship at the end of seventh year. And through time, their so-called friendship never mended, never healed. Harry moved on to bigger and better things, playing Quidditch for Puddlemere and built his playboy reputation. He rarely had time to get back to London to see his friends. Hermione, however, stayed put in London and taught at Hogwarts after Professor Flitwick decided to retire three years after they graduated. Despite losing a member of the infamous trio, Hermione and Ron often got together for a drink.

“I’m getting married.” He said beaming one day during one of those get-togethers. She could not be more ecstatic to hear that. She had been urging him to ask her. After all, they had been dating for about 5 years. And soon, an owl tapped on her window when she was writing up next day’s lessons, carrying her wedding invitation. She quickly jotted down a reply (“Of course I’ll come you git.”) Then sent it on its merry way.

The day of the wedding was an eventful one. Cold feet overwhelmed both the bride and the groom. Their nerves were calmed however, and the wedding began an hour later than it had been scheduled. Hermione sat in the pew staring. Not at the groom, but at his best man. A man she had not seen for seven years. Harry. Of course as always, the pictures didn’t do him justice. He still had his unruly raven hair and his green eyes still made her heart skip a beat. Then she wondered if he had brought someone to the wedding and began to look around the room. She pinpointed a few women and made a few guesses as to who his date was. Maybe he didn’t have a date. Ridiculous, she told herself, of course he had a date. He always had a date. Some blond bimbo on his arm declaring their love for him and secretly his fame and his fortune. Her attention was then snapped back to the one presiding, Professor Albus Dumbledore, who announced: “I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Weasley.” Along with the rest of the crowd, she stood up and clapped for her two friends and caught the eye of one Harry Potter. Then swallowed the growing lump in her throat.

“Hi.” He said behind her softly. She wasn’t expecting it.

“Hello Harry.” She replied, raising her head to meet his gaze. He was a lot more built than she saw him last.

“How are you doing?” He bit his lip. He looks so cute when he does that. Hermione thought to herself. Stop it.

“Ok. Fine. Just fine.” The entire conversation was just plain awkward. In her heart, she knew she was lying. She wasn’t fine. She missed him. On the outside, she might look as if she’s so fine and polished, so put together, but she was pieces inside. “Where’s your date?” She asked him hesitantly.

“I didn’t bring a date.”

“Oh.” She desperately wanted to tell him how she felt. But the words betrayed her and left her. They drifted into a long silence.

“Um… Well… It was good seeing you Hermione. You look good.” He said quickly and walked away. Say it damnit she yelled at herself

“I love you.” She spoke to his retreating form. Too late…

People started to thin out at the reception after Ron and his new wife left for their Caribbean honeymoon, courtesy of his best man. Hermione found herself sitting alone in the hall at a random table facing a piece of half-eaten cake. She walked towards the piano in the middle of the room and began playing out her feelings. What if I told him when I first knew? What if he really did love me back? What if our egos didn’t get in the way? What if I said what I meant to say two hours ago when he came up to talk to me? What if… I told him that I was still in love with him? She sang softly to herself. “What I really meant to say…”

Unbeknownst to her, a figure was leaning on the doorframe staring at her and listening to her playing her sorrows away. He secretly cursed the man who was doing this to her. She deserved so much better. Harry quickly regretted that thought. She deserves so much better... He began walking towards her but stopped abruptly when she began singing.

“It took me by surprise
When I saw you standin’ there
Close enough to touch
Breathin’ the same air
You asked me how I’d been
I guess that’s when I smiled and said just fine
But baby I was lyin’…”

His mind flashed back to that fateful day that their friendship ended. It had been strained for the past few months. He could never forget how they shouted at each other outside of the Quidditch Pitch.

“You’ve been ignoring me… and Ron. I’ve never seen you like this. What’s wrong with you? Who are you?” She had said to him but when he turned his back on her, she blasted him. “Damn you Harry James Potter. If you really want it that way then fine, I’ll just stop being concerned about you Be a damn hermit for the rest of your life. It’s so hard you know?” By this time, her eyes were filled with tears that were threatening to spill over. But she wouldn’t let them. Not then. “It’s hard to care about you when you’re always putting yourself out on the line. Always trying to save the god damn world. Every single time you do that I worry… We worry. So if you don’t want me in your life, please, tell me now. So I can stop these damn feelings.” What he said to that still burned in his mind along with her face after he said it.

“I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone.” He spat out dangerously soft.

For a brief moment, Hermione looked shocked and hurt. Reluctant to show how she was feeling, she composed herself and nodded. “Fine. Have it your way.” Then turned and walked away.

He lied. He did need her. More than he needed anyone. He felt it when she collapsed after she was hit by a curse from one of Voldemort’s cronies. His fear for her overwhelmed him. He felt the jealousy when Viktor Krum brought her to the Yule Ball. He denied it feverishly. He loved her. By the time he realized it the damage had been done. Harry lost her to his damned foolish pride. He tried moving on. The ‘Daily Prophet’ chronicled it week after week, chasing him and his ‘one-week-only-girlfriends’ around the block. But none of them made him feel the way he felt when he was with Hermione. Watching her now, with her fingers lightly touching the black and white keys, every note had a meaning, a feeling behind it.

“…And as you walked away
The echo of my words
Cut just like a knife
Cut so deep it hurt
I held back the tears
Held on to my pride and watched you go
I wonder if you’ll ever know”

For Hermione, that day at the Quidditch pitch drained her of all of resolve. She just shut herself down. He didn’t need her or want her anymore. Worse off, he didn’t seem to care. “I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone.” His voice echoed in her mind. It played like a broken record. And his voice sounded cold and venomous. She shivered slightly as she played, remembering.

“What I really meant to say
Is I’m dyin’ here inside
And I miss you more each day
There’s not a night I haven’t cried
And baby here’s the truth
I’m still in love with you
(And that’s what I really meant to say)

What I really meant to say
Is I’m really not that strong
No matter how I try
I’m still holdin’ on
And here’s the honest truth
I’m still in love with you
And, that’s what I really meant to say.”

“So who’s the lucky man?” A voice said from behind her. He startled her for she had thought the entire wedding contingent had left the room. Harry continued to look at her with those piercing green eyes.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She said regaining composure. She refused to be seen like this. One of his eyebrows lifted and he peered at her over his glasses.

“Oh come now. That song you just played… who are you still in love with?” Harry was anxious. For one, he was ready to pounce on that bastard that hurt her like this. Second, he was a little afraid of what she might say.

“It doesn’t matter.” She told him. “He’s better off with someone else than with someone like me. He had made it clear several years ago.” He was coming closer to her. She looked around nervously like a cornered cat. Did he really care or was he just asking her out of curiosity?

“I see.”

“What are you doing here Potter?” She asked him bitterly

“If you haven’t noticed. Ron’s still my best friend. He asked me to be his best man.”

“Not that you jerk, why are you still here? Shouldn’t you be out womanizing on some tropical island by now?”

“Perhaps I thought I could still salvage whatever that was left of a broken friendship. Maybe I thought wrong.”

“Yeah. Right.” She refused to look at him. “See anything salvageable?”

She waited for his response but none came. “Yeah. I thought as much.” Then left the large banquet hall, leaving the world famous Harry Potter alone with his thoughts.

***

The doorbell rang when Ginny was making tea. She rushed to answer who ever was at the door for they were damned persistent. On the other end was Harry looking disheveled, as she had ever seen him. She smiled at him and invited him in for a cup of tea.

“I’m guessing you’re looking for Hermione.” She said pouring him some Earl Grey. “You just missed her. She’s at Hogwarts.” Knowing about that information, Ginny and Harry caught up on their lives. He learned that she, was a proud owner of a bookshop in Hogsmeade and that the business was sure booming. He was surprised to find that she was still dating Neville Longbottom and was eagerly waiting for him to ask her to marry him.

Harry had found out after prying and prodding at Ron that she was Ginny’s housemate. He needed to see her. It’s been two months since he saw her last at the wedding and he was missing her more than he had before. Then finally 3 weeks ago, he mustered up the courage to phone her. She answered and he froze. He didn’t know what to say. So he hung up.

That night, after he had visited Ginny, he came by the house again. To his knowledge, Ginny was out with Neville and leaving her housemate was home alone. He quickly rang the doorbell. Hermione slammed the door in his face. Frustrated, he called her from his cell phone. She hung up every time he called. He refused to apparate into her house so he ran around to the back yard and saw her shadow in her room.

The skies opened up and poured. “Oh Merlin, the fates certainly have it in for me.” He muttered to himself. And for good reason… Then looking up to the location of Hermione’s room, he yelled “Hermione Jane Granger!”

In the room, she lifted an eyebrow in curiosity and looked out the window to find a very wet Harry standing in the rain. He was yelling again about something or other. She opened her window and yelled back: “What do you want Potter?”

“I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

“We’ve talked damnit! Go home Potter. Before you catch a cold.”

“So you do care about me.”

“You wish. I don’t want you to sneeze all over my property. Go away!” She shouted out. Her hair was slowly getting wet. The entire situation was ridiculous. He was being completely illogical.

“You’re acting childish Hermione. Let me in.” He smiled slightly when she pulled her head back in. But his hope faltered when she opened it again and tossed him a large bundled object.

“Here’s a towel. Go home a dry off. Good bye.”

“Alright fine. If you won’t talk to me, then just listen.” Harry was getting desperate. “I was wrong that day. I do need people. You know what? All that fame, all those people, I’ve never felt so alone in my entire life. They didn’t know anything but the famous Harry Potter. They didn’t know me… Harry. Just plain Harry. I quit the team Hermione. I quit the team. I couldn’t stand being in the limelight anymore. I do need people. Most of all, I need you.

Look, I know I’m asking a lot when I ask you to forgive me for everything. But hell, it’s been seven years. I want to start fresh.” He was soaked to the bone. His clothes were getting heavy and his socks were starting to get wet. “I… I…” He knew he needed to say it but he couldn’t. It was as if the words were lodged in his mouth. He wanted her to know. “I love you.”

Hermione blinked. She couldn’t believe her ears. She pinched herself lightly to find out that it indeed was not a dream. Harry just told her he loved her. Her heart soared but she wanted him to suffer for a little longer. She remained silent and let him speak.

“Oh hell… will you let me in already?” he pleaded “Did you hear what I just said? I love you Hermione. I always have and I always will. Do you want me to beg? Because if you do, I will.” Hell why did facing Lord Voldemort seem so much easier than this? Damn that woman and what she does to him. He thought silently Oh Merlin… what am I going to do… “Maybe you just don’t feel the same way. Who ever you were singing about two months ago don’t deserve you. Okay, fine, it’s not like I do either but-

“Shut up.” She spoke up suddenly. “Just shut up.” He stood in the rain quietly waiting for her reply. Once again, she slammed the window shut. Harry thought she just didn’t accept what he said and was still in love with the man in the song. He thought of the ways that he could punch the lights out of that jerk and how he could mutilate him… then the door opened. The back door opened to reveal Hermione in her lovable pyjamas. She motioned for him to enter the house. Grinning like an idiot, he ran towards the door.

“It was you.” She said softly pulling him into her embrace “It was always you.” He was stunned. He was the man in the song. He mentally beat himself up for what he had done to her, to their friendship. “What I meant to say, that day before you turned away, was that I love you.” Smiling giddily at each other, they kissed.

“You’re all wet…” She murmured. “Soaked really.”

“And who’s fault would that be?” Harry said waterlogged. Looking at him shyly, she shoved an extremely large towel into his chest then kissed him again.

The door clicked open again and on the other side was Ginny and Neville, looking both embarrassingly and lovingly at the sight of Harry and Hermione. “It’s about time.” Ginny chuckled to herself. “It’s about damned time.”

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A/N: Pls Review