"But its uncomfy, it threw my back out!" He protested.
"Well you don't have to sleep on it. You have the floor, the street or of course Ron's house, I know you have been invited to stay there."
Harry didn't have a response to this.
"Ok then at least stay up a little longer won't you, have a drink with me. I don't sleep well when I'm dry."
You're quite the little alcoholic aren't you Harry Potter." Hermione teezed. "I guess I don't need to be in work to early tomorrow, I could always do a late shift instead… Ok then only a small drink mind, I don't intend to be hung-over." She cautioned as she reached up into the cupboard to get two glasses out before turning round to find Harry pulling out a large bottle of Jack Daniels from an inside coat pocket.
"Always comes in handy, for celebrations and such." He said awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his head.
"Mmm I'm sure." Hermione responded as they made their way back into the living room.
He took two glasses, and filled them up each halfway.
"So let's get started on what you have been up to since I was last in England." He asked as he sat in front of the sofa, on the floor, as opposed to on it.
"Well Harry that's a long story, you sure you want to hear it?" She asked, as she took a sip of what she had been given. She wasn't really a strong alcohol, though neither was Harry last time… She didn't expect she would drink it all, but as she began talking, she drunk some more, and settled down into a comfortable quietness, with the only sound being her recounting what had happened in her life, in great detail.
Harry never commented, as she spoke for nearly an hour. Every time she looked up she expected him to be asleep, yet he wasn't. He was always just sitting there, staring at her, listening, savouring every minute. He had finished his drink more than once during the time she was talking, yet his concentration didn't seem to waver.
It was only after Hermione had finished talking that she had chance to reflect on how different Harry seemed. She had obviously noted changed in him, both his physical appearance and his personality, but he used to be a lot more talkative. Normally he had dominated the conversations, but now he did no such thing. He had sat in silence for an hour, until she talked herself into silence.
"What about you then Harry?" She asked finally.
"He looked up in surprise at this question."
"Sorry what?" He asked, distracted from his reverie.
"Well I told you what I had been up to, what about you. You must have done some interesting stuff in the last three years."
"No, nothing exceotional." He said, as he took a large gulp from his third glass of Jack Daniels. "There is nothing to tell."
"Nothing?" Hermione asked in disbelief. "Harry Potter, the most action packed life there is, and yet your saying that there is nothing happened?"
"No, I didn't say nothing happened, I said there was nothing to tell. They are quite different."
Hermione suddenly felt like she had said to much. She had told him all about her job, her friends, her plans for the future, and even a reasonable amount about Adam, yet he had, within the space of thirty seconds said to her that he had nothing to share, nothing to say. She was left feeling as isolated from him as she had done before. Why was he still so cagey with her. Obviously three years hadn't bee enough. She supposed he was angry with her, and yet she knew well enough that more than that, he also hated himself.
"Ok the Harry, if you haven't had anything to tell about, them what do you plan to do in the future, when you go back to Sydney? You are going back aren't you?"
"My house is in Sydney." Was his only response, which implied an answer, without giving one.
"Ok then what are your plans?"
"I prefer not to make plans. They pressurise us to do things, to be somewhere. If we make plans and achieve them, then they seldom turn out to be as we had hoped, and if we don't achieve them we feel bad because of it, as though we have somehow failed."
"Why should we do this? I prefer to simply live. After so many didn't it's a fact I try to savour." Hermione didn't know how to respond to this pessimistic attitude.
"You drunk enough?" Hermione asked as Harry poured himself some more.
"Well I figured I might as well finish the bottle. It isn't a very social activity to drink on ones own, and I don't know when I will next have company."
"Novel way of thinking." Hermione said, as she finished the first glass, yet held onto it, so Harry couldn't offer her more. Regardless of the fact she didn't have work early tomorrow she still didn't want to drink excessively.
"So now, can I head to bed yet? It is late, and with all this darkness I'm surprised I haven't nodded off yet."
"Mmm I suppose so." Harry responded, not thinking of any other reason to keep her up. He rose to his feet, more steadily than he thought he would.
"Oh well, I will just go get you the blankets then." Hermione said as she gained her balance, before taking her wand which was lighting the room, and walking towards the doorway.
"I came for you." He spoke, breaking the silence. Hermione's heart tightened, as though it had been clasped by an icy hand. She slowly turned to face him, pityingly.
"Harry…"
"No, I'm not drunk" He replied, predicting what she would say. "All the drink does is give me the bravery to say what I want to say. I came because I needed to resolve the situation. I can't keep living without having resolution.
"That was your choice Harry."
"Perhaps, but I'm choosing now, I want to resolve things once and for all."
"Please don't start Harry. You won't gain anything; you will only regret it in the morning."
"I'm used to regret." He said, disregarding her warning. "I need to know. I spent three years waiting, though I don't know for what. All I know is that it involves you. You know how I feel…That never changed; I still feel about you, feel the same as I did back then… I still love you Hermione."
"You don't love me Harry." Hermione said with a sigh. "You love an ideal."
"Don't tell me about me, I am me!" He spoke back to her as he raised his voice. He took a step towards her, though she took a step back, almost afraid of what he would do, if not say.
"Well what do you expect Harry, You come here a week before I'm to get married, hoping for what, to stop me getting married?" She asked as she began to raise her own voice. How could Harry be so inconsiderate, he had no right to say these things.
"I expect nothing. I hope for resolution, as I said, but I expect nothing. All I know is how I feel and that I need resolution. You loved me once, and I left. I never spoke to you about it, and I regretted it. I would regret if I never told you how I felt.
"I'm getting married Harry, MARRIED! I don't know if that means anything to you, but it means I moved on. I have a life…"
"And? I had a life once, and I want it back. You know what I think Hermione, you know what the worst thought was all these years. At first I thought it wasn't the case but after two years I came to realise I still loved you. I realised, that its not something you ever start to forget. It's not something you loose. I think that when people love each other as much as we did, or as much as I did, it never fades. They may move on, but there heart will always feel for the person they used to love."
"I think you love me Hermione…"
"You do?" Hermione asked angrily.
"Yes, I think you do."
"I don't." She said firmly. How could I after you left, and never spoke to me. Your wrong Harry, love doesn't last forever.
"No, I'm not wrong Hermione." He said, almost in fear. "It has been my only thought for three years, don't tell me I'm wrong. I know you still love me!"
"You're being irrational Harry. How could you make such claims?"
"Because I know you, and I know what I need to hear."
"What do you want of me then Harry? You come here and confess your love for me, and demand I feel the same. Is that what you expected in your head, that I would fall into your arms and we would live happily ever after?" She cried
"What do you want? Do you want me to love you?"
"NO!" He roared, before his voice fell to a hoarse whisper. "I want you to hate me."
A long silence fell between them as she tried to understand this.
"What?" She finally asked.
"I want you to hate me! Because love isn't enough. Not for me. Even if you loved me you could never give me what I want. If you told me you hated me, if I knew that was how you felt, then I could go, I could get on with my life, knowing, that I don't stand a chance."
"If I knew, that you hated me, I could stop teasing myself. I think I could be happy, maybe for the first time since I fell in love with you." He said, barely audible over the ticking of a clock on the wall, as his voice had gone from the shouting and the emotions.
"Harry…You're sick." Hermione said as a tear rolled down his cheek. "This obsessive need of yours, it's not right. You know I don't hate you, I don't think I ever could. I can't give you what you want…"
"I know…"
"You wasted so much of your love. You say you love me, and yet you want me to hate you. The only happiness you can find, is when you're hated by the one person who means the most to you. It's not right…
"I know…"
"I think you need to sleep. I will go and get blankets, and in the morning we can talk. I don't know if I can help Harry, but I really do hope you find peace…Tomorrow I will go to work, and when I come back I don't want you to be here…" She said, with each word hurting her as much as it did him. She knew how he felt, but to see someone she had loved, and did love, in such a state. It was like loosing them.
"I think you're probably right." He said after a minute, you go get the blankets…I will feel much better after a good sleep."
Hermione didn't believe him entirely, yet she couldn't stand there any longer, she turned and walked into the hallway before breaking into a run up the stairs and into her bedroom where she slammed the door and fell to her knees in an uncontrollable sobbing which shook her whole body.
Harry stood rooted for a spot, before slowly walking out of the room after her, except rather than head up the stairs he walked into the kitchen. He opened one of the drawers and took out a large black handled bread knife. He pressed the cold blade against his wrist, his hand shaking in fear. It scratched his skin, as his grip tightened, before he let it drop to the floor. He was too weak even to claim his peace.
"Harry, I have the blankets… Harry, the blankets." Hermione said as Harry didn't seem aware of her presence in the kitchen door way. He slid the knife under the table with his foot as he turned around.
"Thank you." He said, looking beyond her, as though there was something more than just her in his presence.
"Hopefully in the morning your mind will be a little clearer. You don't need to mention anything though because it will probably just make you feel awkward."
"Undoubtedly. I shall mention it none the less as I am no closer to what I had hoped to achieve."
"You never will be." Hermione said as she put the blankets in his arms and gestured him towards the living room.
"Perhaps, but I can still hope."
"Even if it is hopeless?"
"Blind hope is still hope." He said with a thin smile, though the tone of his voice didn't match.
"If it pleases you. As long as you still know where I stand. Its not changing."
Harry didn't reply to this, he had thought for so long about what he wanted to say to her, what he wanted to tell her, that he never considered what would happen after that. He never really considered what she would say either. He threw the pillow against one end of the sofa, before turning to Hermione. He must look pathetic, he thought.
"I'm sorry…" Harry tried. Not sorry he said it, for he would do it again, but sorry that it seemed to hurt her the way it did.
"I know you are Harry… I know you are." She said with a smile as she left the room, closing the door behind her, and heading off to bed.
Harry didn't get ready for bed straightaway; instead he sat on the sofa, letting the moonlight wash over him, its tranquil warmth, calming the maelstrom inside. He had come and said what he needed to. He had told Hermione how he felt, and was that not all he had come here to do? He never hoped for more, though he supposed now he did. Love or hate, it didn't seem he was going to get it. Instead he would simply get a friendship, which although once was so desirable, was now by comparison a hollow excuse for what he once had.
He could stay until morning, but what would be the point. If he were to resign himself to Hermione's verdict now, then he would simply be tormenting himself by staying. She had told him what she thought, and he believed her. He could look into her eyes and see when she was lying, and she wasn't. The way she felt about him, or didn't feel was real, and that was something he couldn't change.
He simply hoped now knowing, that he could go back home, and get on with his life, whatever that meant.
He sat a moment longer, running over these thoughts, doubting them, and them discarding his doubts. What was so great about Hermione anyway? What was it that made her so much more important to him than everyone else? Obviously it was because he loved her, but was the concept of love not flawed? If someone could fall out of it, and if it could cause so much pain, then why would anyone want to be in love to begin with?
Was love something even worth desiring? Perhaps it wasn't love at all, that he felt with Hermione, but a sick obsession. Perhaps love wasn't so complicated after all. Maybe it was something he could find with someone else, even choose to have.
It was worth a shot wasn't it?
He got up from the sofa, leaving the blanket folded as it had been before. He pulled on his jacket, which was still wet from the torrential weather earlier on that night. A quick glance out the window told him that the rain had now passed, and though it was wet outside, there were clear skies. Good for walking in, one should say.
He opened the front door, and left silently, leaving Hermione in her room, also thinking about what had just transpired. Though his clothes had dried since earlier, his shoes were still wet. With every step he took there was a small squelch, which whilst proving to be a mild annoyance, was also something to try and think about besides what he would do next in his life.
The streets were nearly deserted, with only the occasional car driving past. Even though it was the outskirts of London it seemed the heavy rain earlier had driven everyone else inside. Eventually after a long period of walking he came to a house he recognised, the Burrow. By now the moon was high over head and the stars were out. What a fitting night it would be, if he were to leave now.
He pulled out his keys, before letting himself in. The house seemed silent, other than the occasional creak as the building swayed in the wind. He glanced at his watch, which in the darkness he could just make out to be showing that it was just shy of four in the morning. He slipped off his shoes, and jacket and made his way silently up the stairs. He paused briefly, looking at his room at the end of the corridor, before turning and opening the door to his right.
The room he stepped into was decorated in creams and mauves. The curtains were left open, allowing the moonlight in, leaving patterns on the carpet as it seeped in through the net curtains.
"What time is it Harry?" Ginny asked as she pulled herself up in her bed and rubbed her eyes.
"A little before four." He said, as though this was acceptable. "I have been thinking Ginny. I have done a lot of thinking today, and you know, after all of it…" He said as he knelt down beside her, and gently planted a kiss upon her lips. "I think it's you I love."
"You think?" She asked, mildly amused at how serious he seemed. Rather than a confession of love it sounded like he was giving her the death sentence.
"Yes, all this time I was so obsessed I never realised what I had, or could have had." Ginny stared deeply into his eyes, as he stared back at her, waiting for an answer.
"I'm yours if you want me." She responded after a moment. "I always have been."
Harry smiled at her, before kicking off his shoes, at sliding up into her bed. They lay kissing for several moments. It started off at first, tender and cautious, but as lust took over they increased in pace and ferocity, an ecstasy of fumbling. Harry rolled on top of her, his knees pinning her down on either side as she reached up and slipped his jacket off his shoulders, before throwing it down onto the floor.
"Are you sure?" Ginny asked him. She knew any self restraint he had was wavering, not to mention if he did stop later it would be frustrating in more than one way.
"Shh." Was his only response, as he planted another kiss upon her. He let himself fall forwards, his chest pressed against hers, yet still separated by the clothes they wore. He reached down and placed his hand upon her side where her negligee had ridden up. He ran his hands over her lower back as she arched to his touch.
"Material…" He complained as he tried to pull it up.
"Not yet Harry." She said back teasingly. "You're still fully clothed and yet this is all I have."
"And?" He asked impatiently.
"And I know once I' naked you don't have enough of your higher brain functions to take your clothes off. Now come on Harry, strip!" He was only too happy to oblige as he pulled off his silk shirt, revealing his well-formed muscles and lean figure. As the moonlight washed in through the window it cast a glow upon his skin.
"Have you been working out Harry?" Ginny asked remembering how he looked when she last saw him. Previously he had been very lean, and so whilst not muscular he had certainly not been unfit.
"There wasn't much else to do." He responded as he held her tight, staring into her eyes. He started kissing at the base of her neck, his hot breath upon her eliciting goose bumps. He carried on doing this for a few minutes until Ginny grew impatient and pushed him off her for a moment. She sat up in bed, and slipped off her negligee, leaving her entirely naked underneath him.
"Mmmm sex." Harry growled, as he gave her a suggestive glance, before moving down her body and taking one of her nipples in his mouth.
"I thought you would never ask." Ginny said, as she cast a silencing spell over the room, and surrendered to their mutual needs.
Some time later Harry lay in bed, running his fingers through her hair, which was soft and deep red, contrasting against the white pillow. They remained in silence for several minutes, neither of them saying anything, not through awkwardness, but because they could be themselves around each other.
"I Love you." Harry said softly, as he planet a kiss upon her lips.
"Do you?" she asked. He stiffened up at this, as the mood instantly darkened.
"What do you mean? I wouldn't say it is I didn't believe it." He said, angry that she would doubt him.
"I didn't say you didn't believe it, but I know you don't feel it."
"But I do…" He argued
"You don't Harry." Ginny said as she drew the covers tighter around herself. "I know you might want to, and you might care for me as a friend but you don't love me, not like you love her"
"I thought I loved her but I don't. I want to be with you Ginny."
"If it was me you wanted to be with then why did you wait so long? I have been here the whole time Harry. If you had ever loved me you could have just told me, like you did tonight, except you would mean it. But when you disappear for years, and only come back when you find out that the woman you love is getting married, then I can't draw any other conclusions." Ginny said as a tear rolled down her cheek.
Harry stayed silent for a moment, not knowing what to say. In truth he didn't know how he felt, yet Ginny seemed sure, and he supposed she was right. If it was her then why hadn't he come back sooner? Can you love someone and not even know it?
"If you really love her Harry, and I know you do, then you need to face that."
"I'm sorry Ginny…" Harry said feebly as he reached down to pick up his t-shirt.
"Sorry for what? For this? That never used to bother you, and it doesn't bother me." Ginny explained.
"No, I mean im sorry for being confused. I shouldn't have told you that, it was wrong of me, and it gave you false pretences."
"I didn't believe you when you first walked in." Ginny said, a small smile gracing her face. "I wish it were true but I knew you didn't mean it."
"Then why would you still…you know?" Harry asked offended that she would go along with a lie.
"Because I wanted you to see it Harry. Because it was all I could do for you." She said. He paused to contemplate the guilt he felt, for being weak, and for using her like that.
"I don't deserve a friend like you." He said, as he pulled on his trousers.
"No, you don't." Ginny said with a laugh. "But you do deserve to get on with your life, so stop torturing yourself and get some closure."
"I told her how I feel." Harry confided as he stood up and slipped his shoes on.
"She wasn't interested."
"I'm sorry Harry, what did she say."
"Everything that was needed. I expected it really…"
"Well at least you know Harry, at least you can move on now that you have told her the truth."
"As much as I dare tell." Harry said as he finally pulled on his jacket, playfully ruffled Ginny's hair and walked out of the room, leaving her wandering as to what he meant.
Harry made his way out of Ginny's house, and down the street, hailing down a taxi at the earliest possible point, which given the time of night, was a bit of a wait.
"Where do you want to go?" Asked the taxi driver, I slightly plump, balding man, who looked like he had been in the job far to long, but then don't all taxi drivers have that look?
"The airport…" Harry simply replied, as he slid into the back seat, not wanting to appear overly social. He was getting a headache, and the effects of the alcohol he had consumed earlier at Hermione's were now starting to have an effect.
"Which one?" The driver asked as he glanced in his rear view mirror, having a look at Harry, who didn't bring his luggage with him. He couldn't be bothered with it, after all, buying new clothes would be something to occupy his time with, when he got back home, to Sydney
"You don't know which one has the next flight to Sydney do you?" He asked sarcastically, as he slumped back in the seat, his head falling back.
"I'm afraid not." The driver replied, giving a half hearted laugh. "Heathrow is the nearest from here."
"Then I will go to whichever is furthest from here." Harry replied, wanting to distance himself form Hermione, Ginny and everyone that reminded him off what he could never have. He wanted to get as far away from these feelings as he could, before they consumed him once again.
"Fair enough." The driver said with a smile, as he pulled away, and the meter started ticking.
"Can't blame you…Some of these streets can be a bit nasty, especially at this time of night. You never know who you might let in your car… could be a murderer!" He said, as he glanced once more in the mirror. "I notice your travelling light? Going on business or to visit family?"
"Could you just drive please?" Harry said, as he closed his eyes and tried to get some rest.
He was jerked awake as the car came to a sharp stop in the car park. He glanced at the airport, and knew now more than ever that he was making the right choice, in walking away. He thrust some money to the driver, and walked into the airport, which still seemed very lively, as plains touched down and took off. Glancing up at the board he saw that the next flight to Sydney was in just under an hour. He smiled to himself, as he walked to the ticket desk, and handed over his credit card.