Second Chance

Hedwig76

Rating: R
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 27/11/2005
Last Updated: 14/12/2005
Status: completed

After the final battle is won, Hermione confesses her feelings to Harry, but she does not get the answer she was looking for. Five years later, Harry and Hermione meet again, but this time she has a surprise for him.

Chapters

1. ONE

2. TWO

3. THREE

4. FOUR

5. FIVE

6. SIX

7. SEVEN

8. EIGHT

9. NINE

10. TEN

11. ELEVEN

12. TWELVE

1. ONE

A/N: After a few months away, I’ve returned with a new story. I hope you all enjoy it. Please read and review.

Disclaimer: We all know, Harry’s wonderful world came out of the brilliant mind of Jo Rowling.

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ONE

Hermione looked at the man she loved. They were in one of St. Mungo’s waiting rooms. Harry stood leaning against a wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his face down staring at the floor. They were alone.

Hermione walked up to him. She stood right next to him breathing in his wonderful scent. She cupped his face with her hands, lifting it up, and looking into the green of his eyes. Slowly, she rose on her toes and brought her lips up to his, placing a soft kiss on them.

“I love you, Harry.”

Harry looked at her expressionless. Hermione desperately started into his eyes, searching for any of the emotions she was feeling at that moment. But she couldn’t find anything, not even a sign that would tell her he had actually heard her.

“Harry… did you hear me?” she asked.

Harry looked down. “Yeah, I heard you,” he simply replied. His voice sounded cold, distant. Thinking that perhaps he just didn’t understand what she meant, she repeated it.

“Harry, I said I love you. I love you so much.” All of her emotions, all of her feelings were coming out of her mouth in those simple words. Harry pushed her softly aside and walked away.

“Harry…”

“I’m… I’m sorry Hermione, I…” He carefully avoided her eyes.

“You‘re sorry?” Hermione repeated. “Well, I’m not. I’m not sorry that I love you with all my heart, that I can’t take you out of my mind. I’m not sorry that I need you with me, that I’m nothing without you.”

Harry turned around giving his back to her. Hermione came up to him and placed her hands on his shoulders, breathing into his neck. “Harry…”

He pulled her hands off of him and turned around. Without meeting her eyes, he spoke. “Hermione, I… I’m sorry.”

Hermione took a step back. “Oh god!” she thought. “Oh god!” she said aloud. She passed a shaky hand over her forehead. Her breath started coming out in small gasps. “I… I’m sorry I ever told you.”

Harry came up to her and tried to take one of her hands. Hermione, however, avoided the contact and jumped back. “Hermione, I…”

“Don’t!” she said. Surprisingly, even to Hermione, her voice sounded firm. “Just go, Harry.”

“But…”

“GO! Leave me alone,” she said covering her face with her hands. Seconds later, she heard him walk towards the stairs, feeling that with each step he took away from her, her heart ripped a little more. When his steps faded, she ran towards the stairs trying to catch up to him.

“Harry!” she called out at the top of the stairs, but he wasn’t there. Hermione ran down the stairs hoping to find him there. Harry, however, was nowhere to be seen.

“Harry…”

--- * --- * --- * ---

Hermione woke up startled, breathing fast as if she had been running a marathon. Her heart was beating at firebolt speed. She brushed away some brown curls off her face. They were wet with sweat. She took a deep breath trying to calm down.

Hermione turned in her bed, laying flat in her back, looking up at the dark ceiling of her bedroom. “That dream,” she thought. “That dream again.” More than a dream, it was a memory; one of her worst memories.

She raised her upper body, supporting herself on one elbow, and grabbed the water goblet that rested on her beside table. She emptied it in one gulp, but her throat still felt dry and sandy. Placing the goblet back down, she noticed it was 2:15 a.m. Hermione gasped with frustration. For the last few years, she had had trouble sleeping. If she was lucky, she’d get four hours of sleep at the most, which didn’t exactly meant four hours in a row. She would toss and turn for a while and to then go back to sleep.

Five years had passed since the day Hermione had told Harry she loved him, and that moment still replayed in her dreams. It had happened just a couple of days after the Dark Lord was defeated. They had been in St. Mungo’s. Ron, who had suffered some internal injuries, laid in a bed across the hall from where they had been waiting. Hermione herself had just been released earlier that day. She had been treated from a nasty cut on her shoulder.

The final battle had lasted three long days, during which hundreds of lives were lost. Fighting went on at Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. Unfortunately, many of the lives lost were from Hogwarts students that had faced the Death Eaters when they tried to take over the school. Several teachers and members of the Order had also lost their lives trying to save the students’.

After all the horror of those days, Hermione had been more than relieved to see they made it through. But the one thing she had been more thankful for was to see that Harry had fulfilled his destiny, not only defeating Voldemort, but also surviving the ordeal. She had been so proud of him. To see him in battle had been agonizing, but when everything was finally over she knew she would love him forever.

For that reason, that day at St. Mungo’s she had decided to take the first step and let him know about her feelings. She had been almost sure he felt the same way. During the battle days, there had been a few times when Hermione could’ve sworn she saw love in his eyes.

He had even said to her “I can’t lose you, Hermione,” when she wanted to go with him and face the Death Eaters. He tried to keep her safe the whole time. She thought it was because he loved her. “And he did,” she thought. “Just not in the same way I did, in the way I do.”

But when she had been pouring out her heart to him all she found was a cold and hard wall where her feelings bounced back. Even now looking back at that day, she could still feel the same anxiety, the same sadness, the same embarrassment.

He didn’t love her. He never actually said it, but it had been obvious. All he kept saying was he was sorry.

Just then, the man sleeping next to Hermione turned around. For a little more than a year, Hermione had been living with Eric Morgan. They had met one day when Hermione went to Gringotts, where he worked, to change some muggle money. They started dating soon after and a few months later, he asked her to move in with him.

Hermione had thought about it for days. She liked Eric. He was a nice guy, always a gentleman with her, but she was very clear about her feelings. Her heart belonged to only one wizard, but she also knew he didn’t see her in that way. She accepted Eric’s proposition, hoping this relationship would help her to move on.

But things didn’t end there. About a month ago, Eric had proposed to Hermione, and Hermione accepted. She still wasn’t sure what on earth made her say yes, but every time Eric tried to set a date, she would change the topic or start making excuses to avoid having that discussion.

Eric placed an arm lazily over her stomach. Slowly, his hand pulled up her nightdress and started to trail down to her knickers. Hermione turned away trying to keep him from going further. Eric, however, didn’t seem to notice her unwillingness and started to caress her tights. He got closer to her. Hermione could feel in her behind how much fully awake he was now. His hardening was more than eloquent. He raised his upper body and pulled Hermione gently to make her lay on her back.

Eric brought his face down to kiss her lips, but Hermione turned her face. Instead he sucked her cheek and nibbled her ear. Hermione placed her hands on his shoulders and tried to push him off.

“Eric…”

But he didn’t back off. He moved and placed himself on top of her. His hands started to pull the soft fabric that was on his way. With a quick movement, her knickers ended up on the floor, quickly followed by his boxers. Not wasting any time, Eric firmly parted her tights, digging his way in. Hermione closed her eyes and grabbed hold of the sheets.

Minutes later, when his urge was satisfied, Eric fell on top of her gasping for air. Hermione could feel his hot breath burning her neck.

She waited a few seconds, then made an effort to push him aside. Eric let his trashed body sink next to her. Quickly, Hermione removed his arm, which still rested on top of her, and got out of the bed. She went into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

The thing she hated the most about having sex was the gooey mess she was left with afterwards. Since she was taking a potion to prevent conception, there was no need for any other barrier. When the whole thing was finished, she would always run to clean herself. She would spend some five minutes trying to get the slime that made her skin feel so sticky off of her body. Sometimes, she would just jump into the shower and turn the water on. She didn’t realize that what really disgusted her was not the mess, by the guy that mess belonged to.

Hermione sat down on the bathroom floor, still holding tissue paper on her hands. She could only wonder if the rest of her nights were going to be like this. She had been in the bathroom for almost ten minutes, but she did it on purpose. She knew perfectly well that by the time she’d get back to bed Eric would be back to sleep.

She had talked to Eric before about their sexual life. It seemed (not all the time, but quite often) that Eric only gave importance to his own needs and forgot all about hers. Eric would change his way of approaching her at night for a few days after their conversation, but then he’d forget all about it and go back to the same. The mere satisfaction of a physical need, his need.

--- * --- * --- * ---

The following morning, Hermione was drinking some coffee in her kitchen before heading to work. After completing a three-year study program in Magical Law and International Relations, she had been offered a job at the Ministry of Magic’s International Magic Office of Law. Eric had already left for Gringotts.

“Hermione?”

Hermione got up quickly as she heard Ginny’s voice coming from the living room’s fireplace. During the last years, Hermione had parted away from almost all of her old friends in an effort to keep Harry out of her life. The only person she’d see regularly was Ginny, with a few visits to the Burrow here and there, but only when assured Harry wouldn’t be making an appearance.

The fact that Ginny had once been Harry Potter’s girlfriends did not affect the girls’ friendship. Hermione knew it was over, in the past.

“Morning Ginny!” greeted Hermione as she walked towards the fireplace and sat on the wooden floor.

“Hey, I wanted to check on you before you were off to work.”

Ginny looked great. At her twenty-two years of age, she was a redhead beauty with bright lively eyes. Her hair was shorter than it used to be when they were in Hogwarts, but it suited her perfectly. Besides her natural good looks, love made her glow. She had been dating Neville Longbottom for almost two years.

“Well, you did. I was about to leave,” said Hermione checking the clock placed on the wall.

“I just wanted to remind you about tomorrow. I don’t want you giving me excuses not to come.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Yes Ginny. I know! I said I’d be there, didn’t I?”

After a little more than two years of dating, Ron and Luna were getting married the following Saturday. Ron had hand delivered the invitation to Hermione, but had assigned Ginny the task of making sure Hermione would really be there. Ginny, Luna and Hermione, along with Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinet - who were dating Fred and George respectively - would be driving together to The Burrow where the ceremony was to take place.

On Friday night, Molly and Arthur were hosting the Rehearsal Dinner at The Burrow. The girls had offered to arrive there early Friday morning to help out. For that reason, they were all meeting at Ginny and Luna’s place on Thursday night so they could leave early Friday morning.

Ginny had made that suggestion. She didn’t fancy waiting for Angelina and Alicia on Friday morning. Neither one of them had a reputation of being punctual.

Ginny smiled at her. “Yeah, you did. I’m just making sure. I don’t want to die in Ron’s hands if you don’t show up.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”

“Alright then!” said Ginny. “See you tomorrow.” After that, her face disappeared from the green flames.

Hermione let out a sigh. She wasn’t quite sure if she was ready for that weekend. This time it was inevitable, she was going to see Harry. That made her feel anxious, nervous, and yes even a little excited. She couldn’t deny that.

--- * --- * --- * ---

There was one thing Hermione didn’t know: what had gone through Harry’s mind that night at St. Mungo’s.

The final battle had been very difficult for all those involved in it, but especially for Harry. To see so many youngsters die in the hands of the Death Eaters and not be able to help them all had been devastating for him. On top of that, during those three days Harry lost people that were really close to him.

Hagrid, Lupin, Moody, Professor Flitwick, and Madame Pomfrey, among others, had perished trying to protect the students. Harry, Hermione and Ron had been lucky to come out of the Forbidden Forest – where Harry faced Voldemort – injured, but alive.

The most horrible scenes kept playing in Harry’s minds for days. He couldn’t help but feel guilty. Thoughts like “what if” or “I shouldn’t have” kept twirling in his mind.

The night Hermione told him about her feelings, they had just been told Ron was going to be okay. At first, Ron’s condition had been critical. The Weasleys had already lost two members, Percy and Bill. The possibility of losing Ron had added one more worry to Harry’s already burnt down mood.

And there was Hermione, saying she loved him. “She loves me?” Harry thought. He could not believe she was saying this to him when he had just let many defenseless students die. “How can she love me when I didn’t stop the horror and destruction of those days?”

“I’m… I’m sorry Hermione, I…” he said, thinking about all the lives he could have saved, but didn’t. She kept on talking, but he was not really listening to her. His mind was blocked. Screams of people asking for help and green beams of lights were obstructing his senses.

“Hermione, I… I’m sorry,” he said again. Then, he looked at her pretty brown eyes. They were full of tears and sadness. He couldn’t let anything happen to her, but he felt that if she stayed by his side sooner or later she’d get hurt. And he wasn’t going to let that happen. The last thing he wanted to see was a beam of green light taking Hermione’s life. Trying to make distance between them, Harry ran downstairs and disapparated away from her.

2. TWO

TWO

The following day Hermione got out of work early. She was supposed to spend the night at Ginny and Luna’s as well as a couple of days at the Burrow and she still hadn’t packed. Hoping that at the last minute something - that might keep her from going - would come up, she had not gotten her things ready.

But she promised Ron she’d be at his wedding. After all, he was one of her best friends and she had to be there for him on such a special occasion. Besides, Ginny had sworn to jinx her ‘till next year if she didn’t go.

Dragging her bag to the fireplace, after kissing Eric good-bye, Hermione flooed to her friends’ place. It was a nice two-bedroom house, which Ginny and Luna had gotten a couple of years back. They were both working at The Quibbler. Luna’s father had retired and left the magazine in his daughter’s hands. With Ginny’s help, the publication had turned into a more serious, fact-reliable magazine.

“Hermione! How are you?” came Luna’s excited voice as Hermione stepped out of the green flames. After hearing that, Ginny, Alicia and Angelina quickly came over to hug her hello.

“It’s been ages!” said Angelina while crushing Hermione’s bones in a tight embrace. “How are you?”

Alicia, who was good at noticing certain things, took Hermione’s left hand in both hers and lifted it up so everyone could see the engagement ring Hermione was wearing.

“Well… I think she’s been doing great, don’t you?”

At the sight of the stone, the girls scream excitedly urging Hermione to give every detail about the proposal and, most importantly, her fiancé.

“Fred and I are engaged too, you know?” announced Angelina. “We’re getting married next April.“

After Hermione responded to most of their questions, minus the specific-sex-related ones, they settled down in the living room talking about Luna’s wedding.

“What do you reckon the guys are doing right now?” asked Alicia, taking a sip from her cup of tea.

“I don’t even want to think about it,” replied Angelina quickly. Hermione looked curiously at them. She had no idea what they were talking about. Seeing her puzzled expression, Ginny informed her.

“They’re having Ron’s bachelor party right now,” she said. “George, Fred, Charlie, Neville, Harry and, of course, Ron, started early today.”

“I’d say they started since yesterday,” Angelina quickly added. She seemed not very happy about Fred’s participation in it.

Hermione smiled. “Really?” she said.

“They must be pretty wasted by now,” said Luna. She didn’t seem to give it as much importance as Angelina. In fact, she seemed amused.

“Honey, they’re not just drinking,” stated Angelina. “I’m sure they are just using this Ron’s bachelor party thing as an excuse to go out and do Merlin-knows-what with Merlin-knows-who.”

“But why did they wait so long to have the party?” asked Hermione. “With the wedding in two days?”

“I know, they should’ve partied ages ago,” responded Luna. “But the season just ended this past weekend and Ron didn’t want to do it while they still had matches to play.”

Both Harry and Ron were professional quidditch players. They had signed a contract with the Chudley Cannons (Ron’s all time favourite team), whose luck had totally changed since the two Hogwarts graduates had joined the team.

“Aren’t you afraid that Ron might not make it on time tomorrow?” Angelina asked Luna.

“No,” said Luna honestly, not even a bit of doubt in her voice.

“What makes you so sure?” wondered Alicia.

“Ron knows what’s good for him…” she said looking at her fingernails. Then she added, “Plus, Molly won’t let that happen.”

“That’s a better guarantee, if you ask me,” said Alicia laughing. After a while, she added, “Anyhow, I still think it’s not fair. Yours wasn’t like that!” she said talking to Luna.

“Why not?” asked Hermione. She had missed it because it had been held on Eric’s birthday.

“Molly was there,” said Luna.

An “Oh!” came out of Hermione and they all laughed.

“Well,” suddenly said Alicia. “We can still make up for it.”

She stood up and headed to the kitchen. The rest of the girls, curious to know what she was on about, followed her. Alicia started opening the kitchen cabinets as if looking for something specifically. She didn’t seem to find what she was looking for, though.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

Right after that, she disapparated. The girls looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders, having no idea where she had gone. Ten minutes later, she came back carrying limes and several bottles in her arms.

“Tequila?” said Ginny, half amused half intrigued. “What are you going to do with this?”

“You’ll see…” Alicia replied. “An American friend of mine showed me how to make this wonderful drink.”

Alicia quickly busied herself crushing ice and mixing the contents of her bottles. The other girls paying close attention to the entire process.

“Ladies… This is a Frozen Margarita,” Alicia announced, handing each girl a glass.

They all quickly took the drinks and toasted to the bride’s happiness. All of them, with the exception of Luna, carefully sipped the drink to taste its flavor. Luna, however, took a good glug at once.

“Uh… uh… uh… uh…” complained Luna with a hand to her forehead and her eyes tightly shut.

“Brain freeze!” said Alicia, while laughing her head off.

A minute later, Luna seemed to have regained the ability to speak. “This tastes good!” she said, causing all the girls to laugh.

In less than twenty minutes, Alicia needed to prepare another round of Margaritas. The atmosphere started getting a little hotter in the room. Soon enough music started coming out of a muggle CD player. All time hits from the Weird Sisters made the girls move to the beat, bringing them memories of their Hogwarts years.

After a few more drinks, Luna jumped in top of the coffee table and started to dance. She had started to drink tequila straight from the bottle.

“Well…” said an unstable Luna. “Wh… whatever the guys are do…ing…” Hermione held Luna’s elbow so she wouldn’t fall, “th…they’re not having… as much fu…un as we are.”

The Weird Sisters were soon forgotten and replaced by muggle music. Lenny Kravitz’ “I’m crazy for this little lady… I‘m begging for this little lady, ‘cause I tell you she‘s so good, she‘s divine…” closely followed by the BackStreet Boys’ “If you want it to be good girl, get yourself a bad boy…”, among others kept the girls dancing and drinking until well into the night.

--- * --- * --- * ---

Not even the alcohol made Hermione sleep. Around 4 in the morning, the girls had finally fallen asleep in the living room amidst a see of empty bottles, including Ginny and Luna - they had not made it to their beds. By 7 o’clock, Hermione was already up with a bad headache and a dry mouth.

Knowing that her friends would be suffering from the same symptoms, she went to the kitchen and started concocting a potion to relieve the hang over. To help the girls make it through the day without a restful night’s sleep, Hermione also added a few of the basic ingredients of the Pepperup potion.

An hour later, she woke them up and made sure they emptied the goblets containing the potion. By 9:30 a.m., they were on their way to the Burrow on Ginny‘s car (She, like her father, had a certain fascination for muggle’s artifacts). Molly was expecting them for breakfast. When they got there, they were welcomed by the smell of coffee and freshly baked bread.

“Girls! I’m glad you’re all here,” Mrs. Weasley greeted, walking up to them. “And just in time, breakfast is ready!”

They all hugged and kissed Molly hello before helping themselves to eggs and bacon.

“Where’s Dad?” asked Ginny, sitting down at the table.

“He went to check on the boys.” The girls looked at each other and hid their giggles. “He’ll be back in a bit.”

Minutes later, Amanda (Charlie’s wife) arrived with her two little boys, Daniel, who was 4, and Michael, who was 2. The kids went running to say hello to grandma, who covered their little faces with kisses. Just then, Arthur apparated in.

“How great to see my kitchen full of people!”

“Grandpa!” called the kids as they run to hug him. The girls stood up and greeted Mr. Weasley.

“How are the boys?” asked Molly, placing a big plate of eggs and bacon in front of him after he had sat down at the table.

“They’re, uh…” Arthur looked at his wife, trying to choose the rights words, but not being able to find anything suitable, he just smiled. “They’re fine.” Then getting back to his plate, he added, “They should be getting in around noon, I expect.”

“They’d better!” threatened Molly.

--- * --- * --- * ---

Hermione and the girls spent all morning helping Molly get the house clean and ready for the guests. Only the family and their closest friends would be attending the Rehearsal Dinner, but a larger crowd had been invited to the wedding. All of the Weasleys, Neville, Harry, Hermione, Alicia and Angelina were spending the night at the Burrow.

Now that Arthur was the new Minister of Magic, the economic situation of the family had improved considerably. They could’ve easily afforded a bigger house. Molly and Arthur, however, would never leave the house their kids grew up in. They were now quite glad to see their grandkids running and playing in the same backyard their father had.

At least, the Burrow was now in a better condition than before, and they didn’t have to buy hand-me-downs anymore. A very handy temporary level had been added to the house to accommodate all the guests. It’d be removed after the wedding.

After lunch Ginny, Luna and Hermione were in the kitchen with Molly getting things ready for dinner when the guys finally arrived. They went straight to the kitchen – being that the center of the house. Hermione, who was pealing potatoes, took a deep breath, but didn’t raise her head. Ron went straight to his bride-to-be and kissed her hello.

“What did you guys do last night?” asked Luna, looking inquisitively at him.

Ron looked at the twins. They were in the other side of the room, talking to their girls, who had walked in after them. With a small smile, Ron looked back at Luna. “I’m sorry babe, but I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I can’t remember a damn thing!” he responded between giggles.

“How convenient!” quickly added Angelina from the other side of the room, making them all laugh.

“Hermione!” Ron said walking to her and pulling her in a bone-breaking hug. “I’m so happy to see you.” He pulled away and placed a kiss in each of her cheeks. “You sure have been playing hard to get, haven’t you?

Harry was standing a couple of feet away, watching his two best friends. Inevitably, Hermione’s eyes found his. He looked different from the last time she’d seen him, five years ago. All trace of the kid he used to be was gone and had been replaced by the imposing figure of a gorgeous man. The hard quidditch training he had had to endure during the last years, did wonders to his body.

Broad shoulders, firm chest, muscular arms, strong legs and a yummy behind made him look better than ever. The only things that hadn’t changed were his lovely raven messy hair, his black round glasses, his gorgeous green eyes, and the scar in his forehead, which had caused him so much physical and emotional pain.

Ron pulled away and looked at her from head to toes. “You look great!”

She did look great. She was wearing her favorite blue jeans, a short light green t-shirt, and her long curls were tied in a ponytail, making her look younger. The fine dark lines under her eyes were discretely covered with make-up, but Ron didn’t notice. He only thought she looked a little thinner than he remembered.

Hermione looked at her redhead friend with questioning eyes. “You’ve been drinking, right?”

Ron looked at his wristwatch, and then responded. “Not for the last hour.”

Hermione slapped him playfully in the arm. As she did that, he noticed something shiny in her hand. To confirm his suspicion, Ron took her hand up and looked closely at her ring.

“What’s this?” he said in a rather loud voice.

Right after Ron said that, everyone turned to them. Molly, who had not noticed the ring before, made a squeaking noise and ran towards her. Hermione found herself bombarded by the same type of questions Angelina and Alicia had thrown at her the day before. She now wished she’d left the ring in her purse.

“Are you engaged, dear?” asked Molly quite excitedly.

Hermione had no other choice, but to say yes. Everyone started congratulating her with kisses and hugs - everyone, but Harry. He had remained rooted to the same spot, feeling like his stomach had dropped to the floor. Knowing that he couldn’t stand there all day, he followed Mr. Weasley to the backyard without saying a word.

--- * --- * --- * ---

The rest of the afternoon went by sooner than expected. The boys helped Arthur getting things ready in the backyard. Since the kitchen wasn’t large enough for all of them, dinner was going to be served there. In the meantime, the girls led by Molly got dinner ready.

Finally, they all gathered for dinner. Fresh flowers had been set in the table along with the wonderful dishes Molly and the girls prepared. Ron and Luna were heading the table. Luna had her father and Ginny at her side. Ron had asked Harry and Hermione to sit next to him.

“Oy People!” called out Ron to get everyone’s attention. “I want to make a special toast to my lovely girl, whom I love very much.”

They all stood up and raised their glasses. Ron took Luna’s hands in his and placed a soft kiss on them. After they took a sip of their glass, Luna placed both hers and Ron’s down, grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed passionately his lips, making them all laugh.

For seven years, Harry and Hermione had sat together at the Gryffindor table three times a day during meals. Now that they were once again eating right next to each other, they were tense, trying their best not to rub each other’s arm.

Time had also worked in Hermione’s favor. Just like the ugly duckling – not that she was ever ugly – she had transformed into a beautiful swam. She had learned to take care and tame her brown hair. Her brown curls bounced naturally and looked shiny and healthy – though she had them tied in the back of her head that night. Soft curves defined her figure. Her skin had a soft glow. Just as Harry’s, the one thing that remained the same were her pretty brown eyes that twinkled when she smiled.

Being right next to her, Harry could smell her wonderful scent. A scent he had never found in anybody else.

“So, you’re getting married, right?” said Harry after a while. Their conversation had only gone around the usual “how-are-you-I’m-fine” polite stuff.

“Yeah,” replied Hermione not meeting his eyes. She could also smell that wonderful aftershave of his, which made her feel weak in the knees.

“When?”

“We, uh… don’t have a date, yet.” She finally looked up to him. His gaze was penetrating as if he were tying to read her thoughts. Remembering about his Occlumency lessons, she decided not to risk it and looked away.

“Why isn’t he here?” asked Harry, trying to keep his voice as casual as possible.

“He had to work,” said Hermione playing with her fork. “He’ll be here tomorrow, though. You’ll get a chance to meet him.”

“Great,” he said not at all pleased. After that, they fell silent again.

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A/N: I know that some of you may be thinking that if this story is set five years after they graduated that makes it 2003 and I know that Lenny Kravitz’ song came out in 2004. However, I decided to ignore that fact since I thought it fit perfectly that scene.

3. THREE

THREE

That night Hermione’s insomnia was worse than ever. She hadn’t been able to sleep not even for an hour. She kept turning and turning trying to find a comfortable spot on the bed, but it was no use.

Feeling frustrated, she sat up and looked at the clock. It was barely 2:30. Hermione groaned wishing she could make time fly. She looked at the bed next to hers. Ginny was sleeping there. Trying to make as little noise as possible, Hermione got out of bed, threw her night robe on top of her pajamas – cotton pants and a tiny tank top – and left the room.

She went into the kitchen and towards the sink to drink some water. She stood there for a few minutes after she placed the glass down, looking out the window into the night. Unconsciously, Hermione headed to the backyard. The moon was pulling her out. The long table and the chairs from dinner were still there.

Not caring about being barefoot, she walked out into the grass. Taking a deep breath, Hermione inhaled the smell of the night. The light breeze played with her hair, which was down, making her feel relaxed and calmed.

She looked up at the sky. Since the Burrow was located away from any big cities, the starts could easily be seen. It was a gorgeous end-of-August night. The full moon bathed the ground with its shiny glow.

She closed her eyes. “If I’m going to be awake,” she thought. “Better spend it out here.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”

Hermione jumped as she heard a voice behind her. She had been so distracted, she didn’t notice someone had been staring at her for a while. She turned to see Harry standing just a few steps away from her.

He was still wearing the same black pants he had on at dinner, but he had replaced the blue shirt from earlier with a simple white-cotton tee. His hair was all messy, not unusual in him. The broomstick in his hand, however, indicated he had been flying.

Remembering she only had her pajamas under her night robe, she pulled it close and crossed her arms over her chest. Harry smiled at that.

“I could tell you the same thing,” she finally said after a few awkward silent minutes. “But I see what you’ve been up to.”

Harry looked at the broomstick and smiled. “Yeah!. That’s why I love coming here. I can fly freely.”

“Don’t you do it every day? Fly, that is.” She looked at his hair, noticing it still looked so darn cute when it was all messy like that. A half smile appeared on her face at the thought.

“Well, yeah I do, but it’s not the same, you know?” As he was saying that, he took a couple of steps closer to her. “When you have to catch a sneaky snitch while trying not to get killed by a couple of bludgers, you don’t get to enjoy flying that much.”

He looked at her with a wide smile in his face. That was the Harry she remembered, with that playful smile and talking to her in that friendly, relaxed way.

“In a place like this,” he said pointing to the Weasley’s pitch. “I really get to enjoy that wonderful feeling you can only experience when flying.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” said Hermione nodding her head. Flying had never been her thing.

Harry smiled and looked at her for a while. Then, he grabbed her by the elbow and started pulling her towards the pitch. “Come. I’ll show you.”

Fear quickly appeared on her face. She tried to get her arm free of Harry’s grip, but he wasn’t letting go.

“No! Please Harry. You know I hate flying.”

“That’s ‘cause you’ve never been able to appreciate it,” he said as he kept on pulling her forward.

Before she knew it, they had left the house behind and were now in the pitch. Harry let go of her and mounted the broomstick. Hermione was just thinking about making a run for her life when Harry grabbed her by the waist and with a quick movement raised her up and placed her on the broom in front of him.

Hermione gasped and grabbed hold of the handle for dear life. Harry, amused by her reaction, looked at her hands. He noticed how small they looked in comparison with his. Shaking his head to clear his mind of any thoughts and focus on flying, he analyzed her grip on the handle.

“One of the things you need to do first,” he said sounding like a professional instructor. “…is look at your grip. If you place your hands like this…” he rearranged her hands, “…you’ll have better control of the broomstick and it’ll help you with your balance, too.”

They were very close to each other. Harry was talking to her from her right shoulder. She could feel his warm breath tickling her neck. His aftershave, now mixed with the clean smell of the night, invaded her senses.

“You sound just like an expert,” she said turning to meet his eyes, but she soon regretted it. Their faces were so close, their noses almost touched. She looked into his green eyes and felt her face turning red under his strong gaze. She quickly turned away, not wanting to guess what it was she was seeing in his eyes.

“Hold on,” he said. Then, with a movement of his skilled hands, they slowly left the ground. Instinctively, Hermione tightened her grip on the handle and tensed her body. Not wanting to scare the daylights out of her, Harry was flying at a slow pace and at a reasonable height.

Still, he could feel her tensed body . Trying to help her feel more confident, he took one hand off the handle and placed it around her waist, bringing her closer to him. The wind made her hair fly hitting Harry’s face, but he didn’t mind. He loved to see her hair down. She had it tied in a ponytail all afternoon and in a bun in the evening.

Harry closed his eyes enjoying how soft and warm her body felt against his chest. Trying to take in as much of her scent as possible, he leaned forward, as close to her as he could.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” asked Hermione with a shaky voice.

Harry pulled his face away, wondering what exactly she was talking about. Since he didn’t respond, Hermione motioned her head towards his one-hand grip on the handle.

“Oh,” he said. “Hermione… I’ve flown with no hands at all. Don’t you remember?” he said, resuming his closer-to-her position and talking in her ear. “Second year, one arm broken, the other trying to grab the snitch?”

Hermione was shaking, but it had nothing to do with feeling cold. It wasn’t even cold at all. It had to do with the soft voice talking in her ear, the warm breath on her neck, the firm body next to her, sending a wave of sensations all through her body.

“I do remember that,” she managed to say. “But I also remember you falling to the ground.” Even when she was complaining about it, having Harry’s hand around her waist did make her feel safer.

As they continued flying, she began to relax. Trying to ignore the feelings that woke up inside her thanks to Harry’s presence, she tried to concentrate in the scenery instead. From up there, everything looked better. The moonlight gave the trees, the houses, and the roads underneath a ghostly look.

Even to her surprise, she was in fact enjoying the ride, the gentle breeze hitting her face, the wonderful view, and of course, the company.

“I missed you, Hermione,” he suddenly said. His voice sounded desperate, anxious.

She didn’t know what to say. “You missed me?” she thought. “And whose fault is it? Who pushed who away?” Again, her body tensed, but this time out of anger.

“Can you take me back now?” she asked in a cold voice after a couple of silent minutes.

Harry let out a sigh and without responding turned the broomstick around and headed back to the Burrow. He took her all the way to the back porch. Slowly, their feet hit the ground. As quickly as she could, Hermione got off the broom and after saying a cold good-night to Harry, she went inside the house.

--- * --- * --- * ---

Harry saw her retrieving figure disappeared into the house, her night robe billowing behind her. He sighed resignedly, running a hand through his hair.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” he thought.

But he couldn’t help it. He had missed her a lot. Knowing he’d be seeing her at the wedding, he had waited anxiously for this day to come.

He regretted deeply the way he had reacted that night at St. Mungo’s. Leaving her like that without saying what was going through his mind had not been the wisest thing to do, but there was no going back.

At that moment, he had felt it was the best thing to do. He had lost all the people he had ever loved. The previous days had left him with the feeling that his life would never change. That it’d always be clouded by his bad luck.

He didn’t want to drag anyone whit him, especially Hermione, through a life of despair. For months after the last battle, a repetitive nightmare kept hunting his dreams. He could clearly see a bright beam of green light hitting Hermione across the chest. He could hear her scream and then see her lifeless body fall to the ground. The dream felt so real, he’d always wake up shaking and sweating.

It took him a long time to gradually make peace with himself and accept that his luck was not better, nor worse, than anybody else’s. He finally accepted the fact that he did have a future ahead of him and that it could be as bright and as promising as any other regular guy’s.

By that time, Hermione was already out of his life. It was then when he realized how wrong he had been. Pushing her away from him had only sunk him deeper in his depression. She would’ve been a reason for him to keep going.

Harry knew he loved her, he wanted her by his side, but there was something stopping him. Hermione was involved with another guy. Knowing about the closeness between Ginny and Hermione, whenever possible, Harry had tried to get information out of Ginny.

Reluctantly, she told him Hermione was dating another wizard, but Ginny never mentioned the tiny detail of them being engaged. When Harry heard the news earlier that day, he felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water right to his face.

“Now what?” he asked himself. “Now what?”

--- * --- * --- * ---

The ceremony was to take place at 4 p.m. After some handy spells, the backyard was left unrecognizable. A big white canopy had been set, giving the place a mellow feeling. White and soft pink flowers had been carefully positioned in strategically chosen places.

White chairs lined in several rows waited for the guests’ arrival. A carpet made out of white-rose petals led the way from the end of the rows to the front where the couple was to be wed.

All the Weasleys were nicely dressed, according to the occasion. Ginny was Luna’s maid of honor. Harry was Ron’s best man. Besides them, three more couples were accompanying the bride and groom: Fred and Angelina, George and Alicia, and Hermione and Neville.

The guests started to arrive an hour before the ceremony began. Luna, who seemed to have lost everything at the last minute, asked Hermione to look around the house for her bouquet. Luna was sure she had placed it in her room and Molly, who was also getting kind of anxious, assured it had been in hers.

Finally, Hermione found it in the living room on a top shelf. It had been placed there to keep it out of the kids’ reach. She was just heading back to the stairs, when she heard George calling her name.

“Hermione… there you are,” he said entering the living room. Arthur, Harry and Charlie were sitting on the couches talking about quidditch, of course, waiting for the ceremony to begin.

“Someone’s here looking for you,” announced George.

“Oh!” Hermione had forgotten Eric would be arriving soon. “Right.” She looked at the men sitting down, took Eric’s hand and walked up to them.

“Let me introduce you.”

The men on the couches stood up to meet the newcomer.

“These are the Weasleys: George, Charlie and their father Arthur, and this is our friend Harry Potter. Everybody this is Eric Morgan… my fiancé,” she added quickly.

Each one took a turn extending their hand out and shaking Eric’s, mouthing the usual nice-to-meet-you-pleasure’s-mine remarks.

“It’s great to finally meet you, Hermione talks a lot about all of you.” Then turning to Harry, Eric added, “Of course there’s no need for her to tell me who you are. Who doesn’t know you, right?”

Harry nodded and gave him a fake smile.

“Must be nice having your picture on the Prophet once a week,” said Eric throwing an arm over Hermione’s shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

Harry didn’t respond.

“Both Harry and Hermione are like two more members of the family,” said Arthur, looking warmly at the two of them. “They’re like two more of our children to Molly and me. We’ve been together through thick and thin.”

“So I’ve heard,” added Eric smiling at the men, and then placing a kiss on Hermione’s cheek.

Hermione was purposely avoiding Harry’s gaze, which she felt burning her skin.

“Let’s go find you a place to see the ceremony,” said Hermione, trying to get away.

“That’s right,” replied Eric following her out into the backyard. “You have some thing to do, uh?”

Half and hour later, the ceremony began. Luna, preceded by her bridesmaids and their escorts, walked down the isle at her father’s side. It was a short and emotional ritual where the bride and groom said their own bows.

After that, the guests enjoyed the delicious food – against Molly’s wishes, a professional cater had been hired for the reception – and the wonderful music of a live band. Everyone seemed to be having a good time dancing and laughing, everyone but Harry.

All he did was stare at Hermione and her fiancé, while they were eating, while they were dancing. Harry tried to dissimulate keeping company with his fellow quidditch players. Still, Eric, of course, noticed it.

“Can I ask you something, Hermione?” said Eric while they were dancing. “Did you and Harry ever… you know, had something to do?”

Hermione passed a hand through her forehead. “No. We didn’t.”

Not quite convinced, Eric looked at Harry, whose green eyes were fixed on her. “Then, why does he look at you like that?”

Hermione looked at Harry. She knew he had been following her with his eyes, but had tried her best not to let that affect her. “I don’t know, Eric.” She responded honestly.

Harry put down the drink he had been holding in his hand. He wished he could go and take Hermione out of Eric’s arms. Just then, Ron joined the group and stood next to him.

“Having a good time, mate?” But as Harry turned to look at him, Ron was able to see the expression of his face. “I reckon you’re not.”

Harry passed a hand through his hair and sighed. “It’s all my fault.”

“What’s your fault?” asked Ron. He then followed Harry’s gaze to the couple on the dance floor. “Oh! I see.” Ron looked intently at his friend. “Well, seems to me you have two options… you can either stand here, staring at her all night, or you can do something about it.”

Harry looked questioningly at him. Ron smiled mischievously and said. “I got an idea.”

4. FOUR

FOUR

Hermione and Eric had been dancing for quite a while. She was just about to tell him she needed to sit down when Ron and Luna came up to them.

“May we cut in?” said Ron to Hermione. Without waiting for an answer, Ron took Hermione’s hand while Luna grabbed hold of Eric’s, steering him away.

“I’m so happy to have you here, Hermione,” said Ron taking her by the waist and spinning her around. “I wanted my two best friends to share this special day with me.”

Hermione smiled at that. She was also glad to be there. “Why thank you, Ron,” she said beaming at him. “I’m glad to see you still think of me as your best friend.”

“You’ll always be my best friend,” quickly added Ron, bringing her hand up and placing a soft kiss on it. “No matter what,” he said with a wink of his eye.

“Can I cut in?” said a voice coming up from behind Hermione.

“Of course!” Ron said quickly handing Hermione’s hand to him. He padded Harry playfully in the shoulder and left.

Eric, who was still dancing with Luna, immediately saw Harry approaching Hermione. He was having an internal battle trying to decide whether to go there and take Hermione away from him. Knowing Hermione wouldn't be too happy about him making a scene, he opted for watching them closely instead.

Hermione noticed Eric's upset expression, but quickly forgot about it. Her body tensed as she felt Harry’s hand on her waist, bringing her closer to him. His wonderful scent invaded her senses making her heart pound at a faster speed. They danced quietly for a few minutes until Harry’s voice broke the silence.

“I know you’re not doing as good as everyone else thinks,” he said talking close to her ear. Hermione pulled back and looked at him.

“What are you talking about?” she questioned, looking at him.

“You have shadows under you eyes,” she raised her eyebrows at that. “You hide them pretty well with that make-up, but I saw them last night.” She turned away.

“You’re not sleeping well, are you?” he asked with concerned in his voice. “And I reckon you’re not even eating that good either. Not that you look bad, but you could use a couple pounds on you.”

“Since when are you such an expert?” she asked in a tone perhaps a little too rude.

“See! Irritability. That’s a common sign of sleep deprivation.” Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “Have you seen a healer about this?”

“I don’t need to see a healer,” said Hermione again in that rude tone. He gave her that “yeah right” look. Hermione took a deep breath to calm herself, then added, “I already know what they’re going to prescribe anyway, a sleeping draught.”

“Well…” he said urging her to go on. “Do you take it?”

“Sometimes,” she replied, looking away. She felt as if she was being lectured by her father. “Just when I really need it. It can make you dependent, you know.”

Harry shook his head. He was worried and wanted to know what the cause of her sleeplessness was. “Are you happy, Hermione?” he asked softly.

Hermione looked at him. Her knees felt weak under such penetrating gaze. He had never looked at her like that. Just then, Ginny came running towards them.

“C’mon Hermione, Luna’s about to toss the bouquet.” She grabbed Hermione’s hand and pulled her away from Harry. Hermione, thankful for the interruption, quickly followed Ginny.

The rest of the evening went by rather quickly. Eric made sure to glue Hermione to his side all through the night, keeping Harry at a distance. Eric’s attitude was upsetting Hermione, but she didn’t feel like discussing about it in front of everybody.

Soon after, Ron and Luna were getting ready to leave for their honeymoon. They would be taking a three-week-long cruise to the Caribbean. After the newlyweds left, Hermione and Eric headed back home.

--- * --- * --- * ---

“So… are you going to tell me now?” said Eric once they had stepped into their flat. Hermione had a very good idea as of what he was on about, but tried to fake ignorance.

“Tell you what?” she said as she was walking to the bedroom, taking her shoes off. “What are you talking about?”

Eric went after her. “What the bloody hell has Potter to do with you? Why did he keep looking at you like that all the time? And don’t even get me started on the way he was looking at me. He wanted to jinx me with his eyes.”

Hermione sighed in frustration. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She was beginning to get a headache.

“I don’t know, Eric.” She finally said opening her eyes. “I honestly don’t know.” She headed to the bathroom to get some sleeping draught. For sure she was going to need it that night.

“Why are you walking away?” questioned Eric, thinking she was trying to avoid the conversation. His tone was louder than he had meant to.

“I’m not! And don’t talk to me like that.” Hermione was also getting upset. “It isn’t my fault what Harry did or didn’t do. I am tired and I have a headache. Now would you please just let me take my potion so I can go to bed?”

For all response, Eric walked out of the room.

--- * --- * --- * ---

“So, how was the wedding?” asked Debbie. She worked with Hermione at the Ministry of Magic. They both shared a small office.

“It was a nice, lovely ceremony,” said Hermione digging through the stacks of parchment that lay on top of her desk, looking for her quill. Just then, a short young wizard, who sometimes acted as messenger, came into the office carrying a big floral arrangement.

“Roses!” exclaimed Debbie quickly getting up to admire the flowers from a closer place.

“Ms. Granger?” said the wizard.

“Yes,” quickly replied Debbie taking them off of his arms and placing them on top of Hermione’s desk. The wizard nodded at her and left the office.

“Oh, Hermione! Eric is so wonderful.” Sighed Debbie assuming the arrangement was from him.

He had sent Hermione flowers in several occasions before. However, he had only done it on special occasions like her birthday, Valentine’s, their anniversary. That Monday was not a special date as far as Hermione knew.

“He must be trying to apologize,” she reasoned. Seeing the questioning look in Debbie’s face, Hermione explained. “We had a little argument the night of the wedding and we didn’t have time to smooth things yesterday. I spent all day at my parents’.”

Hermione looked at the roses. They were of a deep shade of red and smelled wonderfully. “I reckon I should thank him.” She went to the fireplace, grabbed some floo powder and stuck her head into the green flames. Seconds later, Eric’s tiny office came into focus.

“Hey darling!” said Eric after noticing Hermione’s face on the fireplace. He was sitting at his desk.

Hermione smiled at him, thinking that if he had made an effort to make up, she should also put a little into it. “I wanted to thank you for the flowers. They’re lovely.”

Eric’s brown eyes looked curiously at her. “Flowers? What flowers?” he asked, dropping the quill he was holding.

Hermione fell silent.

“What flowers, Hermione? Did someone send you flowers?” pressed Eric, getting closer to the fireplace.

“I, uh… I have to go,” quickly said Hermione. “I’ll see you tonight.” And before he could say anything else, Hermione’s face was gone.

--- * --- * --- * ---

Hermione remained sitting at her desk, staring at the roses for a few minutes. Finally, she stood up and examined them looking for a note. She turned the vase around and found it. There was a small envelope nicely pinned to the arrangement.

She hadn’t noticed it before. With trembling hands, she ripped the envelope open. The note was short and simple, but was not signed.

Hermione recognized that handwriting. She had seen it way too many times and didn’t need a signature to know whom it was from. It was from Harry. The note simply said “Have lunch with me.”

“Shit!” said Hermione. “I should’ve read the note before talking to Eric.” She knew Eric’s quick mind would soon put two and two together. “I reckon we’re going to have another go tonight.”

--- * --- * --- * ---

Eric was no fool. He knew something was going on. Someone had sent flowers to Hermione and he could beat his life on who that someone was. Harry was obviously interested in her.

He had stared at them, or better said at her, all through the wedding. He had even managed to dance with her. “Only Merlin knows what the bloody hell he talked to her about,” he thought.

But Eric was sure of one thing, he was not going to step aside and let Harry, or anybody else for that matter, take away what was his. “Who does he think he is? Just because he’s the famous Harry Potter it doesn’t mean that he can just come along and take her away from me. She won’t fall for that!”

Feeling determined to take care of his interest, Eric decided to go to the Ministry and take his girl to a nice lunch, which of course would allow him to confirm if in fact she had received said flowers.

Knowing very well the way to her office, Eric got there in no time. He knocked softly at the door and opened it after he heard Debbie’s voice inviting him in.

“Hello girls,” he greeted.

Hermione quickly raised her head at the sound of his voice. She was partially blocked from view since the arrangement was still sitting on her desk. Eric walked up to her desk and looked critically at the flowers.

Trying to make his voice sound casual, he asked. “Who send this to you?”

Debbie looked from Hermione to Eric. “I, uh… need to go get some files… I’ll be back,” she said, getting up. She walked out of the office and closed the door behind her. Hermione could feel another discussion coming on.

“Aren’t you going to tell me who sent you this?” he said, pointing at the flowers, talking in a more demanding voice.

Hermione sat back into her upholstered chair. “I don’t know,” she said not looking at his eyes. “The note wasn’t signed.” As soon as she said that, she regretted it.

Eric scanned her desk with his eyes and soon enough he found what he was looking for. Before she could do anything about it, Eric grabbed the small envelope in his hands and took the note out.

“Have lunch with me!” he read it aloud, a tinge of sarcasm in his voice. His face began to redden out of anger. His fists tightened turning the little note into a ball of paper, which he tossed aside.

“It’s from him, isn’t it?” he asked hardly controlling his voice from getting loud.

A knock on the door kept her from answering. “Come in,” she called out hoping for someone to come and get her to a meeting or anything that could spare her this uncomfortable situation.

However, things were only getting from bad to worse. The door of the office opened and who would walk into the office but Harry Potter himself. If Eric’s face had been red before, it was nothing compared to the shade it was now. Steam seemed to be coming out of his ears.

“YOU!” he said.

In two seconds, Harry realized what was going on. He raised his chin and looked defiantly at Eric. In a quick movement, Eric went to Harry and placed his tall body in front of him, their noses almost touching. Hermione quickly got up and went to them.

“What right you think you have to send flowers to my fiancée?” questioned Eric almost spitting on Harry’s face.

“Eric, please.” Hermione tried to pull him, but he pushed her away. “STAY OUT OF THIS!” he yelled at her.

“Don’t treat her like that!” quickly said Harry, grabbing a handful of Eric‘s sweater. “This is not her fault. I am the one who decided to send her flowers. In case you don’t know, we’re friends.”

Eric faked a laugh. “Oh, I didn’t know friends send flowers and lunch invitations to each other,” he said pulling his sweater off of Harry’s grip.

“Eric, don’t make this bigger than what it is,” said Hermione. In a sudden movement, she had placed herself in between the two angry men, but Eric didn’t seem to hear her.

“Hermione is mine, you hear me?” Eric said, fixing his eyes on Harry. “I want you away from her!”

Knowing her pretty well, Harry knew Eric has just said the wrong thing. Hermione would never appreciate him talking about her as something of his possession.

“ERIC!” yelled Hermione. “This is not the place nor the time…” she said in a lower voice, trying to keep things down. “Please, just go back to your office and let me deal with this.”

Eric looked at her with a livid expression. Hermione talked to him again, this time in a much calmer voice.

“Please Eric, just go. We’ll talk later.”

Eric looked at her, then at Harry throwing daggers at him with his brown eyes. With a final look at Hermione, Eric stormed out of the office. Hermione closed her eyes, and took a deep breath to regain herself.

“Are you okay?” asked Harry softly.

Hermione looked at him, the anger coming back to her. “Why are you doing this?”

“I thought you’d like the flowers.”

“This is not just about the flowers!” she said walking away from him. “Damn it, Harry! I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I know this is just a nice gesture you had ‘cause we haven’t seen each other in years, but Eric doesn’t know that.”

Harry looked at her, trying to read between the lines and find out what exactly she was the most upset about. Deciding to take a risk, he said.

“What if it wasn’t just that?” he said in a soft voice Hermione barely heard.

“What?”

Speaking louder and clearer this time, he repeated it. “What if it wasn’t just a nice friendly gesture? What if it was more than that?”

Hermione stopped breathing for a few seconds. Her eyes were wide open. Slowly, she began to breath normally again. She looked away from him. “I can’t deal with this right now. I got way too many things in my head as it is.”

She could feel a headache starting to creep inside of her. Harry noticed as she began to rub her temple. Concerned, he walked up to her.

“Are you alright?” he asked as he placed a hand over her shoulder.

At his touch, Hermione jumped as if hit by lighting. “I’m fine, Harry,” she said walking away. “I just… I can’t talk right now.”

“I reckon that’s no to lunch then, is it?” he said in a disappointed voice.

“Yeah,” She nodded. “It’s no to lunch. I’m sorry, Harry.”

“Don’t be,” he said. He then turned to leave, but just before walking out he stopped and looked at her. “I didn’t mean to cause you so much trouble. I’ll see you around.”

5. FIVE

A/N: I just want to give a big THANXS to all those of you who take the time and energy to write a review. It’s really appreciated! J

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FIVE

Hermione was not looking forward to get home that day. She stayed at the Ministry as long as she could, trying to push the inevitable discussion she was bound to face as further away as possible. Still, she couldn’t stay there all night.

Two hours later than usual, Hermione got home. When she walked into the living room, she saw Eric was there, waiting for her. She could see he was still upset. Hoping he wouldn’t start arguing, Hermione headed to the bedroom. Eric, however, was not willing to let it go that easily. He followed her down the hall and into the bedroom.

“Why the hell did you take his side?” Eric demanded to know in an angry voice.

Hermione turned around to face him, frustration painted on her face. “What do you mean?”

“You took his side, Hermione! You kicked me out of your office and you stayed there with that idiot,” said Eric walking closer to her. His eyes were sparkling with anger. Hermione remained silent for a while, having a hard time believing this was happening.

“Did you have lunch with him?” asked Eric before Hermione could speak.

Hermione shook her head. “No, I didn’t,” she said taking a step away from him. “But not because you didn’t want me to. I didn’t because I wasn’t in the mood.”

He looked at her, feeling affronted by her comment. Hermione turned away. She felt uncomfortable with the situation. They had had arguments before, but those arguments had never been because of someone else. Hermione had never seen him as a jealous boyfriend, and he had never yelled at her before.

“What’s happening to us Eric?” she asked in a much calmer voice. “In this two days we have argued way more than we did in a year.”

“What’s happening?” repeated Eric. He was not ready to drop the subject yet. “He’s getting in the middle of us. This is all his bloody fault.” He walked to her and grabbed one of her hands. “Don’t you see Hermione? He wants to take you away from me!”

“You’re taking things the wrong way Eric. It’s not like that.” She looked into his eyes trying to assure him with hers that she was telling him the truth. But in reality, she wasn’t even sure of it.

“Didn’t you see how he looked at you during the wedding? How he looked at you today?” He let go of her hand and started pacing around. “He thinks that just because he’s the famous Harry he can charm you.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You don’t know him Eric! You can’t assume you know what Harry thinks. Besides, he’d never use his fame for anything like that. He doesn’t even like to be famous at all.”

Eric made a disbelieving noise with his throat. He stopped in his tracks and stared at Hermione. She realized that no matter what she’d say his mind was already set. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was not willing to keep arguing about the same thing over and over.

“I think we need to take a break,” she said looking right at him.

Eric looked down at his shoes for a couple of seconds as if trying to control himself. Then, he looked up and spoke, his voice sounding a bit more relaxed. “Okay.” He took a step towards her. “You want to take a walk or something?”

“No Eric. What I mean is we need a break from us.” After she said that, she grabbed a bag and started throwing some clothes in it. Eric looked puzzled at her.

“What are you doing?” he asked, panic in his voice.

“I’m going to Ginny’s,” responded Hermione without meeting his eyes. “I’ll be there for a few days.”

In two quick steps, Eric got to her and grabbed hold of her wrist. “Are you leaving me?” His gaze was penetrating her, trying to see inside her head.

“No, I just told you,” she said pulling off his grip. “I need a couple of days away to think things through.” She went to the wardrobe and took her pajamas out.

“What do you have to think about?” Again his voice was sounding upset. “Why is it that now that your friend suddenly appears you need time away from me?” Hermione didn’t respond. “You see! I’m telling you. He’s coming between us.”

“No, Eric. This has nothing to do with Harry,” she said throwing a few things inside her bag. “We started having problems way before Harry showed up.”

“Oh! Now you’re going to bring back that thing about me not being good in bed.”

“I never said that!” quickly added Hermione.

“C’mon Hermione,” said Eric. “We both know that bloody talk about you needing something more really meant I don’t satisfy you.” Then with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, he added, “I just never thought you were so demanding in bed.”

Hermione looked away, doing her best to ignore the comment he had intended to be offensive. Eric, however, was not ready yet to let it go.

“You just want to go to your friend’s so you can see him whenever you want, don’t you?” he said standing just in front of her, demanding an answer from her.

“You know what,” she said, also getting upset. “You can think whatever you want.” She then walked around him to grab some personal items from the restroom. Eric remained rooted to the same spot.

“If you leave,” he said once she came back in the room. “It’s going to be forever.”

Hermione looked at him. His eyes were daggers trying to cut her open. In a second, Hermione thought of all the good times she had shared with him. The Eric she used to know and the one she had in front were two different people. She couldn’t believe how things had changed in just a few days.

She finally threw the items she had collected from the bathroom in her bag and placed it on her shoulder. “If that’s what you want.” And before he could say anything else, she disapparated.

--- * --- * --- * ---

“So, is it over then?” asked Ginny.

Hermione had apparated in her house twenty minutes ago. Both girls were sitting down in the living room. Ginny had just heard all about Hermione’s arguments with Eric. Hermione was holding the engagement ring she had received from Eric in her fingers.

“Seems like it,” she said, not taking her eyes off the ring. “I reckon I should give this back.”

Ginny nodded. She was trying to figure out Hermione’s emotions, but she couldn’t. Her face was expressionless. Ginny was sure of one thing, though. She was glad for her.

“Well, you’re better off without him.”

Hermione looked up at her friend. “You make it sound as if being with Eric was a bad thing. You know he’s always been good to me.”

“Yes I know,” said Ginny, grabbing a small pillow from the couch and putting it on her lap. “And I also know things haven’t been okay between you. You’ve never admitted it, but I can see you’re not doing good.”

Hermione went back to staring at the ring. She hated being lectured, but she also knew Ginny was right. She hadn’t talked to Ginny about some of her problems with Eric, but it obviously didn’t escape her friend’s eye.

“You don’t love him, Hermione. We both know that.” Ginny placed a hand in Hermione’s. “I know you tried, but you can’t force love. It doesn’t work that way.”

“Yeah, I know,” whispered Hermione. “It’s just that… I had something with him, you know. I felt…”

“You felt trapped!” interrupted Ginny. “Your relationship with him was just a routine. You were with him just for a fake sense of stability. You were just afraid of being alone.”

Hermione stood up and walked towards the fireplace. She stood there quietly pondering Ginny’s words. It was hard to admit it, but Ginny was right. That was why she had tried so desperately to keep her problems to herself, hoping nobody would notice, hoping they’d go away. Where was all that Gryffindor courage she was supposed to have? She should have made use of it long ago, but now she had the chance. Her life was once again in her own hands. All she had to do was reclaim her independence and take control of it.

Determined, she turned around to face her friend. “You’re right, Ginny. I’ve been a fool trying to ignore it, but it won’t happen again.”

Ginny stood up and walked up to her. “I’m glad.” She gave Hermione a warm hug, then gently pulled apart. “And you’re just in time. Now that Luna got married, I need a new housemate.”

“What happened to that whole I’m-dying-to-leave-alone-after-all-those-years-in-the-Burrow plan?” asked Hermione teasingly.

“This is what happens when you grow up in a big family,” she said smiling widely. “You get so used to the madness, you can’t stand a quiet place for too long.”

They both laughed.

--- * --- * --- * ---

The next morning Hermione sent a note to the Ministry saying she’d be taking the day off. She planned to go and get all of her things from the apartment. She put on a pair of faded sweatpants, a short sleeve tee, a pair of flip-flops and she tied her hair in a lazy ponytail.

Knowing at what time Eric usually left for work, she prepared herself a light breakfast to kill time. She didn’t want to see him and start another argument. After she finished her breakfast, she checked her wristwatch. “Eric should be gone by now” she thought.

Fifteen minutes later, she apparated in her apartment, or better said Eric’s apartment. She walked in the living room. All of the things decorating the room, all of the apartment actually, had been chosen by her. She had purchased out of her own pocket many of those things, thinking about the home they would make together.

She looked around the room. She didn’t want any of it. Those things didn’t matter to her anymore. “I’ll just take my pictures and my books,” she thought. With that in mind, she went straight to the bedroom. She had just started taking out some clothes of the dresser when Eric appeared in the doorframe.

He was wearing the exact same outfit as the night before. His eyes were glassy and red. His hair was all messy and his hands were shaking. A strong smell of alcohol was coming out of him.

Hermione looked at him and sighed. Without saying a word, she continued what she was doing. Staggering, he walked up to her.

“You’re not leaving!” he said. His breath hit Hermione’s face making her squint her eyes. Hermione turned around, trying to walk away from him and continue getting out her clothes. Eric grabbed her by the elbow and with a strong movement turned her around to face him.

“You’re not going to leave me!” he repeated, this time in a much stronger voice. He quickly grabbed hold of her upper arms and pulled her close to him. “I’m not going to let you go. You hear me? You’re mine!”

As he said that, he threw her onto the bed and quickly topped her body with his, causing some of the things she had placed there to fall to the floor. Hermione tried to push him off, but he quickly grabbed one of her wrist tightly and placed it above her head.

“Eric get off…”

He covered her mouth with his, kissing her lips desperately. She pushed him with the one hand she had free, but the alcohol had doubled his strength. He pulled away gasping for air.

“Eric, you idiot! Get off of me!”

But he wasn’t listening to her. All the anger he had been feeling the last days was blocking his mind. One of his hands, the other was tightly holding her wrist in place, found its way under her tee. Hermione began to breath in short gasps. She knew yelling for help wouldn’t do any good. Nobody would be able to hear her.

Eric licked the side of her face all the way down to her neck. Hermione could smell the alcohol in his breath. He went back to her lips as his free hand found explored her body desperately. Hermione bit on his bottom lip as hard as she could. He pulled back and smiled devilishly at her, tasting the blood on his mouth.

“STOP IT!” she yelled, though knowing he wasn’t listening. Her mind was working at high speed trying to figure out how to get out of that situation. She then remembered something, his weak spot.

Eric pulled away from her to undo his pants. Hermione took the opportunity and as soon as she could brought her knee up. Using all the strength she could master, she guided it directly to his groin.

Eric gasped in pain, tightening his eyes. His grip on her wrist loosened. Hermione quickly pushed him and got off the bed, fixing her clothes. For a second, she thought about running away, but she looked at him. He was lying on his side, both hands clasped around his groin, eyes tightly closed.

She wanted to make sure he was okay, but she didn’t move closer or talk to him. Finally, he raised his head. He looked directly at her. The seconds were tickling away, but neither one of them spoke. It seemed the pain had brought him back to sobriety. He kept his gaze for a while as if trying to figure out what had just happened.

When his mind cleared of the fog the alcohol had created, he realized what he had almost done. A look of shock appeared in his face. Hermione could see he regretted his actions. There was no need for him to say it, but she was thankful for that. She wasn’t sure she’d be willing to accept an apology just yet.

He stood up, once he regained his strength, and looked at her one last time. Then, without saying a word to her he left the room. Seconds later, after Hermione heard the front door being slammed she knew Eric was gone.

Hermione sighed in relief. She hadn’t even noticed she had stopped breathing. Her heart had been beating furiously. She sat down on the bed trying to calm down. She could not believe what Eric had tried to do. She had never seen him like that. She’d never even seen him drunk. Eric wasn’t used to drinking a lot. A couple of drinks were all she’d ever seen him take.

Thinking it was better to leave as soon as possible, she stood up. With a wave of her wand, her clothes, books and personal items were quickly and nicely packed in her trunk and in a couple of boxes. Minutes later, she headed for the door ready to go, not before leaving the engagement ring on top of the night table.

Before walking out of the front door, Hermione took one last look at what for the last year had been her home. She knew this was the last time she’d be in this place. Reminding herself this was something she should have done a long time ago, she left closing the door, closing the last chapter of her days with Eric as well.

6. SIX

SIX

Harry wanted to patch things up with Hermione, but he wasn’t sure how. He knew he had caused problems between Eric and her with the flowers he sent, but he couldn’t help himself. He had been so happy to see her.

But he was also concerned. Hermione didn’t look that good. She had dark shadows under her eyes and looked thinner. He worried not knowing the cause of her problems. Still, he couldn’t deny she looked more beautiful than he remembered.

He had been a fool pushing her out of his life, but now he was willing to do whatever it took to keep her close. Even if it meant being just her best friend, pushing his feelings aside. She was involved with someone else, and even when it hurt to admit it, he was not in a position to demand anything from her. On the contrary, he was supposed to support her. Causing fights between her fiancé and her was definitely not the "best-friend" thing to do.

Wanting to get some advice from Ginny, Harry headed to the Quibblet’s office, located in Diagon Alley. Once Ginny welcomed him, she led him to a conference room so they could talk privately – Ginny didn’t have an office of her own.

They sat down. Before Harry could say the reason of his visit, Ginny told Harry about Hermione’s break up and about Hermione’s moving in with her. Harry tried to hide his happiness at the news, but failed to do it.

“I see you’re glad to hear the news, aren’t you?” said Ginny, looking at the grin on his face and the twinkle in his eyes.

“I can’t deny it. I didn’t quite like the guy,” he said not meeting Ginny’s eyes.

“Of course, you didn’t,” she repeated teasingly. Harry looked away. “Honestly Harry, you think I’m blind? You’ve always been crazy about her. I don’t know what’s stopped you.”

Harry nodded. “I don’t know either.” He ran a hand through his hair and remained quiet for a while. Then, he leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees. “Now that they broke up, you think I should…”

“You should wait for a while,” interrupted Ginny, knowing pretty well what he was about to say. “She needs time to be by herself, you know, think things through.”

Then a thought came to his mind. “What if they get back together?” he asked in a panicky voice.

“Trust me Harry,” Ginny said placing a hand on his arm. “That won’t happen.”

Keeping Ginny’s advice in mind, but still not being able to hold himself, Harry decided to go straight to the girls’ house right after leaving the Quibblet. Knowing that Hermione no longer lived with Eric, which made it a lot easier for him to visit her whenever he wanted, was great news for him.

--- * --- * --- * ---

Hermione was in her new bedroom. After she came back carrying her belongings, she sat on the floor, her back leaning on the bed, knees pulled up to her chest and held tightly by her arms.

Her mind was swirling. The last few days were replaying in her head. Just 24 hours ago, she was living with her fiancé. Now, she had moved in with her friend, her engagement and her entire romantic relationship finished.

It wasn’t that she regretted breaking up with Eric. In the back of her head, she had thought about doing it quite a while ago, but now that it had actually happened she couldn’t help feeling a sense of loss.

It had happened so fast, she hadn’t had time to assimilate things. She had shared with Eric good times, which if truth must be told, were more than the bad ones. Still, she felt relieved as if a big load had been taken off of her shoulders.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Hermione heard it, but didn’t process it. A couple of minutes later, it rang again, this time a little more insistently. As if woken up from a deep sleep, Hermione turned her face in that direction. Finally, she stood up, left her room and went to open the front door.

“Hey there!” greeted Harry.

Hermione looked at him, but didn’t respond. Without waiting for her, Harry walked in and headed to the living room. She closed the door and followed him, wondering how he knew she was there. Harry saw her clueless expression.

“Ginny told me you were here,” he said. “I… I owe you an apology. I never thought I would cause you all this trouble.”

“It’s not your fault, Harry,” she said meeting his green eyes to assure him she was saying the truth. “Things were not going well between Eric and me way before you came back. I just hadn’t had the courage to walk away.” She was standing in the middle of the room, her arms crossed across her chest.

“Ginny also told me you went this morning to get your stuff,” he said, taking one step closer to her. “How did it go?”

“How did it go?” she thought. That was a difficult question to answer. She could say it went well. After all, she had been able to leave the apartment almost unscratched and collected her things, but couldn’t bring herself to saying it.

Thinking that perhaps she was just having a hard time coping with the break up, Harry got closer to her and caressed her arm trying to comfort her. Then, he thought of something.

“Was he there when you went this morning?” His voice sounded concerned.

She looked away and didn’t respond. Harry realized the answer was yes. He knew her too well to know his question had made her feel anxious. And that only meant she had seen Eric that morning.

Harry wanted to look into her eyes to see what it was she wasn’t saying. Gently, he pulled her head to make her face him. “You want to tell me what happened?” he asked in a whisper.

Hermione raised her left hand and rubbed her forehead with it. Just then Harry noticed something in her wrist he hadn’t seen before. Quickly, he grabbed her arm.

“What’s this?” he asked firmly.

Hermione had totally forgotten about the bruise Eric had left in her wrist that morning. Harry’s question took her by surprise. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

“What happened?” said Harry in a much stronger voice. “Did he do this to you?”

“I, uh… no, uh… “ Her always sharp mind let her down. She couldn’t find a response that would convince Harry it was nothing. “Nothing happened,” she finally managed to say, though not in a very convincing voice. “He didn’t mean to… I was just…”

“He did this to you!” yelled Harry. He let go of her arm and took a few steps away from her, passing his hand through his hair. “I can’t believe this. Oh, but just wait ‘till I get my hands on that asshole.”

“NO!” quickly said Hermione. The last thing she wanted was to make them face each other. “Harry, it’s okay. Nothing happened. He… he didn’t do anything. We were just struggling and …”

“You were struggling! Why?” Hermione covered her mouth with her hand. Her mind was not helping her. “What happened?”

Hermione walked away from him. She didn’t want to open her mouth again, knowing she would only make things worse. Harry came to her and walked around to face her. He grabbed her by the shoulders forcing her to see him.

“Hermione,” he said anxiously. “Did he try to hurt you?” She looked down. “Did he… did he try to force you?”

She didn’t respond, but her reaction was more than clear. Her body was tense and her eyes were evasive. Harry felt a surge of rage coming from his insides. His fists tightened, turning his knuckles white. He started pacing around, breathing with difficulty.

As if suddenly taking a firm resolution, he headed for the door. Hermione, guessing was he was thinking, quickly stood on his way, holding him by the shoulders.

“Don’t Harry!” she said firmly. “I don’t want you to go looking for him.”

He looked exasperated at her. “Why are you still trying to protect him? He doesn’t deserve it!”

“I know, and I’m not protecting him. I just don’t want you to make this worse than it already is.” She looked straight at him, still not letting go of him. “I just want to forget about it, okay. Nothing happened. I’m okay and I won’t see him again.”

“How do you know that?” he quickly asked.

“I know it,” she said, remembering the look in Eric’s face after she hit him. “I just know it.”

Seeing that Harry’s body was relaxing, she let go of him. Harry took a deep breath to regain control of himself.

“He’d better stay away from you, for his own sake, or else I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself.”

--- * --- * --- * ---

Hermione went back to work the next day. She was more than willing to bring her life back to her normal routine. Work had always helped her to keep her mind busy and avoid thinking too much about the things she couldn’t control, which of course had to do with Harry and Eric.

Work did keep her occupied. That Thursday – two days after leaving Eric - Hermione totally forgot about Ginny telling her Neville would be joining them for dinner. She only remembered it when she arrived home and found Ginny and Neville talking animatedly in the kitchen. To her surprise, Harry was also there.

“Hermione,” said Ginny, while checking on a couple of pots on the stove. “Come join us. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

Hermione greeted the guys as she was taking off her cloak. She placed it on a chair and walked towards Ginny.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said taking a peak into the pots. “I totally forgot about dinner. I should’ve been here to help you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Neville helped me.” Ginny winked at her boyfriend and blew him a kiss.

He was sitting on a high stool next to the island in the center of the kitchen. His face turned red at Ginny’s comment. “Well, I tried to help. I only did what Gin told me.”

“If you followed her instructions as well as you used to follow Hermione’s at potions,” added Harry with a teasingly tone. “Then, it should turn out good.”

“I’m not as good at cooking as Hermione is at potion making,” said Ginny, turning off the stove burners. Dinner was ready.

Hermione placed an arm over Ginny’s shoulders. “Yes, you are! Molly is a great cook and I know she taught you everything you know. I wish she’d give me a few lessons. I definitely could use them.”

The two girls laughed. Cooking was not exactly Hermione’s strength. Just then, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” said Hermione, walking out of the kitchen. She went to the front door and quickly opened it. She froze at the threshold after seeing who it was.

“Hello Hermione,” said Eric shyly.

Hermione didn’t respond. She was not expecting to see him. She then heard footsteps coming from behind her. Before she could turn to see who it was, she heard an angry voice.

“What the bloody hell are you doing here?” Harry demanded to know.

Ignoring Harry’s interference, Eric looked at Hermione. “Can I talk to you?” he asked in a soft voice.

Quickly Harry step in front of Hermione and threw daggers at Eric with his eyes. “No! You can’t,” responded Harry for her.

Hermione placed a hand in Harry’s arm trying to calm him down. His angry voice had attracted Ginny and Neville’s attention and they had come out of the kitchen to see what was happening.

“Harry,” said Hermione placing her body in between the two men. “Let me talk to him.”

Harry looked at her as if she was out of her mind. “Of course not!” he replied angrily. “I’m not going to let you alone with this idiot.”

Eric’s jaw tightened at Harry’s insult, but he remained silent. Hermione turned to Neville, pleading for help with her eyes.

“Hey man,” said Neville, standing next to Harry and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe we should just give them a minute to talk.” Then, talking to Hermione he added, “We’ll be right here in case you need us.”

Eric looked at Harry and then at Hermione. “Can we take a walk?”

Harry was just about to respond to him, when Hermione quickly walked to Eric. “I’ll be back,” she said to Harry as she was closing the door.

Eric and Hermione walked down the street, silent for a few minutes. Eric seemed to be searching for the right words. He had opened its mouth to speak a couple of times, but had closed it almost immediately. Finally, he seemed determined.

“Hermione, I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” he said stopping and turning to face her. “For… my behavior the last time we saw each other.” Hermione looked down, not wanting to talk about that.

“I was very upset and I had been drinking. I know that’s not an excuse, but I want you to at least try to understand me.” He took one of her hands in his and looked directly at her eyes. “You were everything for me. I wanted things to work for us, you know that.”

Hermione looked away. Eric’s feelings for her had never been the problem. She was the problem. Her feelings, which didn’t respond to his, were the problem.

“But I know you don’t feel the same.” Surprised, Hermione looked at him. “I’ve known it for a long time, but I wanted to believe that my love would be enough to keep us together. I know now I was wrong and that it was selfish of me to try keeping you at my side.” He looked at her hand still in his. “I just hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.”

Hermione placed her free hand on top of his and softly caressed it. “There’s nothing to forgive.” Eric looked up and found a warm smile on her face. He let go of her hand and pulled her in a hug.

--- * --- * --- * ---

About ten minutes after Hermione left with Eric, Harry walked out of the house. He stood in middle of the street wondering which direction they had taken. He felt anxious and wanted to make sure Hermione was okay.

“I shouldn’t have let her go with him,” he thought. “If that scumbag hurts her again…” but he didn’t get a chance to finish his thought. At that moment, Hermione came into view from a side alley. Harry was glad to see that at least she looked alright.

“What happened?” he asked as soon as she was close enough. “What did he say to you?’

Even though Hermione appreciated him worrying for her, she felt a little overwhelmed by his over-protection. She let out a sigh and without responding started heading towards the front door. Harry stood in her way and looked questioningly at her.

“Well?”

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “Nothing happened. We just talked, okay?” Her voice sounded exasperated.

“Talked?” he repeated not quite convinced.

“Yes, talked.” Hermione closed her eyes for a few seconds to calm down. She didn’t fancy arguing with Harry, but he was getting to her nerves. “Look, I’m fine. We just patched some things we left pending, okay. I don’t need you to worry about me.”

“But I do worry about you. I want to make sure you’re okay,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders.

Feeling frustrated, Hermione said, “Well I don’t need you to take care of me. I’ve taken care of myself during the last five years. I very well can keep doing it.”

Harry felt her last words as punches on his face. He knew he deserved them, but it still hurt to hear her say them.

“You don’t know how much I regret leaving you alone all those years.”

She looked at him, but wasn’t able to keep his penetrating gaze. Knowing that was not the right time to talk to her about it, he dropped the subject and moved aside so she could walk into the house. After taking a couple deep breaths, he followed her.

7. SEVEN

SEVEN

Two weeks passed and things got much calmer for Hermione. She went back to her normal routine – home/work, work/home. Harry didn’t come to visit since the day Eric showed up and Hermione was thankful for that.

She had been able to wind down and focus on herself, something she hadn’t done in quite a while. Even though she still wasn’t able to sleep through the night, she was more relaxed. Having a big bed for herself, being able to lie down and rest without having to struggle for the blankets or worry about someone creeping under her knickers was great. At least she felt less anxious, less stressed.

It was Friday evening and she was alone in the house. Ginny and Neville had gone out. They had invited her to come along, but she said no. “Three’s a crowd,” she said to them. Besides Ginny had told her that perhaps she’d be spending the night at Neville’s. Hermione was really glad for the two of them. They looked great together.

Even when it had been almost three weeks since Hermione moved in with Ginny, she still hadn’t finished unpacking. Most of her belongings were still boxed in a corner of the bedroom, accumulating dust.

Finally, that day Hermione decided it was time for her to officially make the bedroom hers. She opened the boxes and started taking out books, muggle and magic pictures, and a couple of her childhood’s stuffed animals she still kept.

Soon after, Hermione turned on her muggle CD player. Music made her move and get things done quicker. She was listening at the music her parents used to listen when she was a kid – The Beatles. It brought her memories of those years. Hermione took out a muggle picture of her parents and a seven-year-old Hermione. She sighed longing for the times when she had been just a worry-free kid.

But then, she thought about it for a while. The truth was she hadn’t exactly been a worry-free kid. In fact, she had had problems to deal with. She remembered being different from the other kids, not being able to make friends, feeling like she didn’t belong.

“Why I am so different?” she remembered asking her mother.

“Do you know what it really means to be different?” her mother had replied. Hermione shook her head. “Being different means being special.”

Hermione smiled as she recalled her mother’s words. It hadn’t been easy growing up feeling rejected by other kids, but thankfully for her everything changed once she received her acceptance letter from Hogwarts. That day she learned she wasn’t alone. She wasn’t the only different kid. There were more out there. There actually was a place she belonged to.

Hermione shook her head. Trying to get those thoughts out of her head, she turned up the volume. She grabbed some books and began placing them on a shelf. Her favorite song began playing. Immediately, her hips started moving to the rhythm, and before she knew it, she was singing along. She was enjoying the song so much, she didn’t notice she had an audience. When the song ended, she was surprised by frenzy applause.

“I didn’t know you could sing that well,” said Harry smiling widely at her. “You should think about a career as singer.”

Hermione felt her face blushing. “Ha, ha. Very funny Harry.”

Harry walked into the room and looked around at the things Hermione added. “You’re doing a great job.” Then, he looked at a couple of boxes that were still full of books and at the already full shelf. “Looks like you don’t have enough space for all of these.”

Hermione smiled. “Yeah, I only took out the books I need more often, for work.”

Harry took a book out of one of the boxes. “Are you trying to compete with the library at Hogwarts? If you keep getting books at this pace, I’m sure you’ll have enough to fill out two libraries in no time.”

Hermione slap him playfully in the arm. Then, she remembered something. “Hey! How did you get in?” she asked, looking questioningly at him.

“Oh!” He passed a hand through his messy hair. “Well, I rang the bell. I even knocked a couple times, but I also could hear your music all the way out. I was sure you were never going to hear me. So I decided to apparate in.”

“Don’t you know it’s illegal to apparate inside someone’s house without permission?” she said teasingly. “You could get in trouble for that.”

Harry stared at her and raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to tell on me, Ms. law-abiding?” he said teasingly. She smiled at him. “I’m sure you’re going to send the Enforcement Squad after me, aren’t you?”

“If you don’t behave yourself…” she said.

Moving some of her things to the side, he sat down on the bed. Hermione turned the music off.

“Why are you all alone? Where’s Ginny?” he said playing with one of her teddy bears.

“She went out with Neville.” She passed a hand through her sweaty forehead and looked closely at him. He was wearing a pair of black trousers and a nice green shirt that made the color of his eyes stand out. “Why are you all dressed up?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I came to see if you wanted to go out and have dinner with me,” he said looking directly at her eyes. Hermione held his gaze for a while, then looked away.

“Go out?” she repeated.

“Yeah, I know this great place... I’m sure you’re going to like it.” He stood up and walked to her. “C’mon, say yes.”

Hermione sighed. “Okay,” she finally said. Then looking down at herself – she was wearing baggy sweatpants and a tank top, which was drenched with sweat – she added, “But I first need to shower.”

“Thank Merlin you said that!” he said mockingly. “I was afraid I was going to have to drag your butt to the shower.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “Keep this up and I may call for the Enforcement Squad after all.” She turned him around and began pushing him out of the bedroom. “Now, go to the living room and entertain yourself while I get ready.”

“Okay, okay,” he said dragging his feet to the door. “Just don’t take too long or I may fall asleep in the couch.”

--- * --- * --- * ---

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione came out of the shower. Wrapped in a towel, she headed to her wardrobe and opened its doors trying to choose what to wear. Harry was very nicely dressed, she remembered. She needed to find something that would go accordingly.

After a few minutes of pondering, she pulled out a gray pleated skirt and a fitted black cashmere sweater. Then, she took out a pair of black leggings. Trying to cover the black lines under her eyes, which were slowly fading away, she added a little make-up and let her hair down. Finally, she grabbed her cloak and walked out of her bedroom and towards the living room.

Harry smiled as he saw her walking in, pleased at the sight. Resting on one of the chairs was a black leather jacket he had dropped on his way to Hermione’s room after he apparated in.

“You may want to leave your cloak behind,” he said, pointing at the garment in her arms. “We’re going to a muggle restaurant.”

“Oh!” she said. “Let me grab a coat, then.”

She turned on her heels and went back to her room. Five minutes later, she came back with a black waist-long coat. Harry offered his arm to her, which she took quickly.

Outside the house, parked in the driveway, was a sporty black jeep. Harry led her to it and opened a door for her. Hermione looked curiously at him.

“I didn’t know you owned a car,” she said after they were both inside it. “I didn’t even know you could drive.”

He smiled at her as he started driving away. “Well, I got this a couple of years ago. I find it quite useful.” He turned to see her for a couple of seconds to then focus back on the road. “I enjoy driving, you know. Of course I’d never change my broomstick for a car, but it’s good to have them both. Besides when I go into Muggle London…” he took another look at her. “I can’t apparate around.”

Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the restaurant. Harry had been right. I was a nice quiet place, with tables available both inside and outside in an open patio. Since the night was a little chilly they opted to dine inside.

The restaurant was dimly lighted. Each table had a set of two lighted candles on top, giving the place a very romantic atmosphere. Soft music could be heard in the background, though there wasn’t a live band playing.

Harry and Hermione were taken to a table towards the back. They ordered a couple of drinks while they waited for their food. Harry took a sip at his glass, his eyes fixed on her, then placed it back on the table.

“When are Ron and Luna coming back?” he said looking for a way to break the awkward silence. “Is it tomorrow or Sunday?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley should be back Sunday afternoon,” she informed him, a big smile on her face, thinking about her two friends.

"Brilliant! They'll be in time for your birthday," he said beaming at her.

“Yeah," she replied. "Ginny is expecting them for dinner that night. You’re welcome to come. The twins and their girls are coming, too.”

Harry’s face illuminated with a smile. He was really glad to see all of their friends were happily paired. He wished he’d soon be as lucky as there were.

“It’s great they all have their significant other,” he said looking into her brown eyes. He broke the gaze, then added, “I just haven’t spent a lot of time with Alicia and Angelina lately.”

“They’re very nice, as always.” Hermione smiled remembering that night at Ginny’s – their improvised bachelorette party. “Alicia can be a bit of a bad influence sometimes, though,” she said, smiling coyly.

Harry looked curiously at her. “What do you mean?”

As their food arrived, she started telling him what they had been up to that night and the drink Alicia had prepared for them.

"Frozen... margaritas, uh?" said Harry teasingly. "Are they good?"

"They are, actually," she responded while nodding her head. "You should try them sometime. Next time you see Alicia, make sure you ask her for the recipe."

Harry asked a few more question about that night. He seemed quite amused at the idea of the drunk girls. They both laughed as Hermione told him about Luna’s table-top-dancing abilities.

“What about you?” Harry asked teasingly. “Did you dance on top of the table too?”

“No, I didn’t,” she said. She placed a finger on her lips and bit her nail for a few seconds, looking up at the ceiling. “At least, I don’t recall it.”

Harry laughed again, making Hermione’s heart swell. She hadn’t heard him laugh like that in such a long time. That sound was music to her ears. She couldn’t understand how she had been able to live all these years without it.

The rest of the evening went by pleasantly. Harry started talking to her about Quidditch. Hermione’s thing had never been sports, but she knew how things were going on with the Chuddley Cannons. It wasn’t due to a recently acquired interest. It was because of him.

Nobody knew it, but Hermione had actually gone to a few of his matches, always trying to find a seat where Harry couldn’t spot her, but where she could see him well. When the need to see him was more than she could take, Hermione had escaped to the Quidditch matches by herself. She, however, was not ready to tell Harry this. Eventually, their talked moved to other topics.

“So, what are you going to do with those boxes you still have full of books?” he asked remembering there wasn’t enough space on her room for them. “I didn’t know you had so many books.”

Hermione pushed her plate away and looked up at him. “Yeah, I can’t help it, you know,” she said shrugging her shoulders. “Over the years I’ve come across some wonderful books I just had to have. I reckon I may have to shrink them so they can fit in my room and only bring them back to normal size when I need them.”

Pushing his plate aside as well, Harry stared at her for a while. He seemed about to say something, but it took him a while to actually say it aloud.

“Well, I have an idea,” he said brining his glass up to his mouth. He took a slow sip and looked at her. “There’s this room in my place the former owners used as a library. They actually left behind a couple of empty shelves.” He placed his glass back on the table. “That room’s been empty since I bought the house. The shelves are just waiting for books to occupy them.”

Hermione smiled at him. She could guess what he was about to offer. Just the thought alone was enough to make her smile warmly, feeling butterflies in her stomach. Since her stomach was full, she reckoned it was not out of hunger.

“I’d be honored to host your library. It’s a nice quiet room where you could store your books in a normal-size state,” he said. “You could apparate in there whenever you need.”

“That’s really nice of you, Harry…” she said, playing with her napkin carefully not meeting his green eyes. “But I couldn’t accept that. I can’t just apparate in and out of your house like that. You know me… When I need to look something up I don’t give up until I find it... and for that I sometimes need to through all my books.”

“You think I don’t know that,” he said, smiling at her. “I’m sure your reading and researching habits haven’t changed that much these past years. If you’re worried about bothering me, then forget about it. My bedroom is in the second floor on the opposite side of where the library is located, so even if you apparate at 2 in the morning, which I’m sure you will, you won’t bother me at all.”

“And what if you’re…” Hermione was about to say “with someone else” when Harry interrupted her.

“Don’t worry about anything, okay?” He stretched a hand over the table and placed it over hers. “You’ll hurt my feelings if you say no.”

Harry looked deep into her eyes. His penetrating gaze making her blush. Hermione hoped the dim light would help to hide the change of color in her face. The feel of his warm hand over hers was making it hard for Hermione to articulate words.

She stared at his long fingers covering hers. His hands were big, calloused and strong. The hands of a Quidditch player. The hands of a man. Harry noticed she was deep in thought and wondered was she was thinking about.

He was going through a similar agony as hers. He wanted to transmit to her through his touch all the feelings that invaded him, feelings he had been holding back for years. He gladly would have slipped his hand up her arm, through her neck all the way up to her mouth, and caress with his fingers those lips he had tasted only once.

He clearly remembered the soft kiss she had placed on his lips that night at St. Mungo’s, which to his taste had been way too short. He could only imagine what it would be like to lick her tender lips, to take in the sweetness of her mouth, to feel the velvet of her tongue.

Hermione looked up at him, intrigued by the look of his face. She couldn’t tell what it was she was seeing in his eyes. She was only sure of one thing, he had never looked at her like that.

Realizing he was staring at her, he cleared his throat. Slowly, he retrieved his hand and took a sip of his drink trying to remember what they had been talking about.

“So…” he said once he remembered. “What do you say you have lunch at my place tomorrow, and after that we can spend the afternoon setting up your library.”

“Okay,” she said softly.

“Alright then,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at 11.”

8. EIGHT

EIGHT

The next morning at exactly eleven o’clock, as he had said, Harry arrived at Ginny and Hermione’s place. Ginny was out. With Luna out of the country, she was in charge at the Quibbler and had to check on things, even on Saturdays.

Hermione was already waiting for him. She had put on her favourite pair of blue jeans, whose color was beginning to fade, a pink halter-top under a white cotton hoodie, and tied her hair in a ponytail. She was ready to spend the day at Harry’s.

“You ready?” Harry asked once she opened the front door for him. “Let me get those!” He walked over to where the boxes waited in a corner. Hermione had levitated them out of her room before Harry’s arrival.

Minutes later, they were on their way to Harry’s house. Thanks to his handsome pay as a Quidditch player, he had been able to buy a nice house in a small muggle town outside London. Harry had purposely looked for an isolated place, as far from the wizarding world as possible, with enough open space to make good use of his broomstick.

He had found an old manor that was being sold by a muggle agency. He immediately fell in love with the cozy home-like feeling the house had and the extent of land surrounding it. Few changes had been made to the house since he moved in. It was a two-story building, with wooden floors, wide windows and spacious rooms. Bright coloured flowers drew the path to the front porch. To the back of the house, there was an apple orchard, a few yards away from the house.

After an hour drive, they arrived at the manor. Harry parked his jeep right at the entrance. Hermione got off the car, admiring the place.

“Harry, this is a very nice place!” she said in awe.

Harry smiled at her. “Thanks,” he said shyly. He took the two big boxes out of the car and motioned Hermione to the wooden door. “Mi casa es su casa.”

She chuckled at that. Minutes later, when the two boxes had been magically transported inside the house, Hermione was given the five-knut tour of the house. For some reason – perhaps because it was lunchtime – it ended in the kitchen.

“I say we should eat first,” said Harry as his stomach started making loud noises. “I didn’t have breakfast this morning.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“Well, I kind of slept in,” he said while taking things out to prepare a couple of sandwiches. “I forgot to set my alarm clock, so I barely had enough time to shower and drive to London.”

Hermione walked over to where he was standing and helped him prepare lunch. Almost an hour later, with their stomachs pleasantly full, they headed to the library. The room was way better than how Harry had described it to her the night before.

French doors welcomed them into a big spacious room. Two of its walls were lined with shelves. The wall facing the back of the house had a wide bay window, which started at Hermione’s knee height and went all the way to just a foot below the ceiling. Soft fluffy cushions covered the seat at the base of the window.

A pair of comfy looking couches stood opposite to the shelves. A handsome oak desk with a matching upholstered chair occupied the back of the room. Besides the light coming in from the wide window, a crystal chandelier that hung for the ceiling provided plenty of illumination.

“This is great!” she said looking around at the place. Then, she walked to the window, which was wide open. She inhaled deeply. The breeze brought in the smells of the orchard.

Harry stared at her, pleased to see she liked the place. His eyes then settled on her brown curls. The breeze was playing with them, making them fly. Hermione felt his gaze on her and turned to look at him. His green eyes were pulling her towards him like a magnet. Reluctantly, she broke his gaze and turned away from Harry.

“Let’s get started then.”

She went to the boxes and started taking books out. She could still feel his eyes focused on her for a few seconds, but did her best to ignore it. Finally, he came out of his daydream and went to help her out.

--- * --- * --- * ---

The afternoon went by quicker than they expected. It took them a little more than four hours to arrange the books in the shelves because Hermione had a precise place for each one of them. She had to keep them categorized alphabetically by author and topic.

Harry was sure she didn’t need to do that because she could tell which book was which just by looking at the cover. Still, he cooperated and did things exactly the way she asked him.

When the library was finally ready, they both sat down at the window and looked at their work. Hermione sighed happily, knowing her books were nicely arranged in a place meant to be a library.

Harry turned his face to look outside the window. The sky had been cloudy most of the day, but daylight still illuminated outside.

“Hey,” he said looking at her, an idea suddenly in his mind. “Would you like to take a walk?”

“Sure,” she replied, getting up and grabbing her hoodie from one of the couches. She had removed it earlier, geeting hot with all the work.

Minutes later, they were walking out towards the orchard, the smell of apples filling their minds. They walked quietly for a while, content enough just by having the other’s company. It begun to get darker, not only because the sunset was approaching but also due to heavy, black clouds obscured the sky. Neither of them seemed to notice or even care.

“I see why you like it out here,” said Hermione breathing deeply. “It’s so quiet and peaceful!”

Looking around at his land, Harry nodded. “Yeah, it is. In fact, I never lock my front door.” Hermione looked questioningly at him. “There’s no need! Nobody ever comes around here.”

“How long have you had this place?”

Letting out a sigh, he responded. “Two years!”

Hermione looked up at the trees wondering what many other things had happened to Harry during the last years that she didn’t know about. They had left the orchard behind a while ago, but they still didn’t seem to be ready to head back to the house. A loud thunder broke the silence, but they ignored it.

“Hermione,” said Harry softly. “Are you sleeping better now?”

Hermione understood that Harry meant to say, “now that Eric’s gone.” She stopped and looked at her hands. “My sleep problems have nothing to do with Eric.”

Harry stopped as well, a couple steps away from her. Looking curiously at her, he asked, “What does it has to do with, then?”

Hermione looked up at him. She could have said “you”, but there was no need for it. Harry could read it in her face, in her eyes. That knowledge hurt him and made him feel guilty.

“I’m a bloody idiot!” he thought. “I pushed her away from me trying to keep her safe and all I did was hurt her even more.”

He looked at her face. She wasn’t wearing any make-up and he could see the dark circles under her eyes were fading.

“At least the lines under your eyes are disappearing,” he said getting closer to her. He placed a hand on her cold cheek and caressed it with his thumb. “But not even that could make you face look less beautiful.”

Hermione closed her eyes under his touch. She sensed him getting even closer to her. Her heart began pounding so loud, it echoed in her ears. She knew he was about to kiss her and her whole body was begging for him to do it.

Just then a thick raindrop fell on her face. She squinted her eyes and looked up. Within seconds, heavy rain began to fall. Harry grabbed her hand. “C’mon. We’ll have to run.”

They had only run a few yards when the rain started falling even harder. In matters of seconds, they were soaked. Realizing the still were a long way from the house, and knowing there were no curious eyes around, Harry suddenly stopped.

“We’d better apparate to the house,” he said as more thunder was heard.

Seconds later, they were standing in Harry’s kitchen drenched from head to toes. Removing their muddy shoes, Harry cast a drying spell on both of them. Still, the coldness of the water left them shivering.

As if conjured by his mind, a handsome fire started crackling in the fireplace of the drawing room, right next to the kitchen. Placing an arm over Hermione’s shoulders, Harry led her to a couch in front of the fire and made her sit.

“I’m going to make us some tea,” he said and quickly went back to the kitchen.

Hermione sat still, staring at the fire. Minutes later, Harry came back with two steaming cups on his hands. He handed her one and placed the other on the mantelpiece. He grabbed a throw, which rested on the couch, and wrapped Hermione with it. He then got his tea back.

“You’re shaking,” he said.

He sat next to her and placed one arm around her shoulders, enveloping her with his warmth. Hermione took a couple sips at her tea. The feeling of the warm liquid brought back to her the ability to move. She turned her face to look at him. Harry was staring at her with so much love in his eyes it made her blush.

Being in his arms, lost in the green of his eyes, was all she ever could ask for. She could feel the warmth of his body even through the blanket covering her. She wished she could freeze time and remain like that, involved by him, until the end of times.

The chime of an old clock brought her back to reality. “I need to get home,” she said, getting up.

Harry got up as well, placing his cup on the side table. “We’re gonna have to wait until the storm ends. It’s not safe to drive in this condition,” he said pointing at the window.

“I could just apparate home,” said Hermione even when she knew it wasn’t safe either with such a strong storm.

She had barely finished her sentence when an even stronger thunder was heard. Right after that, the lights in the house went off. The room was only illuminated by the fire.

“I reckon you’re gonna have to wait.” He walked to a wooden cabinet standing at the side of the room and grabbed a silver candleholder and, with a wave of his wand, lighted it up.

He went to the kitchen and did the same thing. The light of the candles gave the room a very soothing feeling. Hermione followed him, her teacup still in her hands. Hearing her footsteps approaching, Harry turned to face her.

“We should fix some dinner,” he said walking to the cabinets and looking through them, checking to see what they could prepare. “How about pasta?”

“Sounds good.” She took the last sip at her tea and went to leave the empty cup at the sink. After that, she and Harry got busy cooking dinner the muggle way.

--- * --- * --- * ---

As the hours passed, the storm got strong. Rain was pouring heavily. From time to time, thunder would break the silence. Outside, the darkness was only interrupted by lighting.

Harry and Hermione were standing by the window in the living room, looking out at the storm. They had finished dinner long ago.

“Well,” said Harry looking at her. “I reckon you’re gonna have to spend the night here.”

Hermione was a little resistant at the idea, but she knew she had no other choice. Without looking at him, she nodded.

“Come,” he said grabbing her by the elbow. “I’m sure I can find something for you to sleep in, more comfortable than those jeans.”

They went upstairs and headed to his bedroom, which was located at the end of the hallway. His was the biggest bedroom. Harry got inside his walk-in closet to the side of the room, giving Hermione the chance to admire the place freely.

A sliding door to the opposite side opened up to a little balcony where two wicker chairs stood. A wooden four-poster, quite bigger than the one he used to have at Hogwarts but still somehow similar – only without the red curtains – stood at the center of the room.

Hermione could have sworn that his scent was penetrated in every space of the room. She closed her eyes to inhale it, but quickly opened them when she heard Harry coming back.

“I’m sure this’ll do fine,” he said holding out a pair of his boxers and a Quidditch t-shirt.

Hermione looked at the garments and smiled. “I’m sure it will.” He smiled back at her. “Uh… where can I change?”

“Oh! Right,” he said. “Follow me.”

He led her back to the hallway to a bedroom two doors away from his room – the one in the middle was actually a linen closet. Both the room and the bed were smaller than his, though the bed could still hold two people perfectly well. There was no walk-in closet or balcony on this one, just a private bathroom to a side.

“You can sleep here,” he said lighting the candles on top of a wooden dresser. “If you need anything, I’ll be down the hall.”

“Thanks,” she said.

He walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. She went to the bed and sat at the edge. It felt quite soft. She looked at Harry’s clothes still on her hands. Instinctively, she brought them up to her nose. His wonderful scent invaded her senses. “Oh my!” she said.

Quickly, she stood up taking her clothes off and tossing them carelessly at a chair next to the bed and replaced them with Harry’s boxers and t-shirt, which was a little bigger for her, but it didn’t matter. She embraced herself and got on the bed. Curling her body into a fetal position, she closed her eyes and let his scent take over her.

--- * --- * --- * ---

Two hours later, the loud thunder woke Hermione up. It took her a few seconds to remember she was in Harry’s place, wearing his clothes. She looked at her wristwatch. It was barely passed 1 in the morning. She sat up and brought her knees up to her chest.

She realized her birthday had started one hour ago. She was now 24 years old. The events of the day started replaying in her mind. Hermione was really excited about “her” library. The fact of it being inside Harry’s house still made her feel uneasy, though.

A stronger crash of thunder was heard, making her jump instinctively. After that sound faded, the silence was broken again, this time by a soft knock on the door. Without waiting for a response, the door opened just enough to let Harry’s head come into view.

Seeing that she was awake and decent, he walked in, barefoot and wearing only his pajama bottoms. In one of his arms rested a blanket.

“I reckoned you’d be awake,” he said as he got in.

Hermione looked at him unable to speak. The candles of the room had long been turned off. The room was barely illuminated by the little light that came through the window – the curtains were still open.

For a few minutes, they just looked at each other silently. Even when it was dark, Hermione could feel his gaze on her. She could almost see the green of his eyes. Then again, she could have seen it even with her eyes closed.

Breaking the awkward silence, he finally spoke. “I… I brought you this,” he said presenting her the blanket. Then pointing at the bed, he added, “That quilt is not warm enough.” He walked to the bed, unfolded the blanket and placed it over the bed.

Hermione remained silent.

“I also wanted to be the first one to wish you happy birthday.” She smiled. “Alright then…” he said, not sure what to make of her silence. “I should let you… try to sleep.” But he didn’t move.

Just when he was about to turn around and walk out, she held her hand out to him. Harry walked to her and took it in his. Without saying a word, she pulled at his hand, making him crawl onto the bed.

Harry kneeled next to her, her hand still in his. Unconsciously, he placed his free arm over her shoulders, bringing her to him. Hermione closed her eyes. If she had been drowning in his scent by just wearing his clothes, it was nothing compared to having his strong arms and his firm chest pressed up against her.

Gently, Harry grabbed hold of her shoulders and made her lie down. With her back flat of the bed, one of his arms under her neck and the other over her stomach, she remained still for a while. Then, without opening her eyes, she rolled to her side, giving her back to him, and moved all the way back until their bodies were pressed against each other.

Harry pulled the blankets over them and placed his arm over her waist. The sensation of that moment was so intense, Hermione felt the need to tell him four words she had been dying to tell him since the day of their broom ride.

“I missed you too,” she said in a whisper.

Harry smiled, but said nothing, not wanting to ruin the moment. He just got as close to her as he could and buried his face on her hair, getting lost in her scent as well.

Every muscle of her body was completely relaxed. Minutes later and for the first time and many years, Hermione fell peacefully asleep.

9. NINE

NINE

The morning light slowly began to hit Hermione’s face. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. She blinked a couple of times to then opened them wide, quickly sitting up. It was morning. She had slept through the night!

“Yes!” she said stretching out her arms.

Harry stirred in his sleep and sighed deeply. He placed a hand over his eyes to shield them from the sunlight.

“What time is it?” he asked lazily, his voice still sleepy.

“It’s seven thirty,” she informed him. “C’mon lazy boy,” she said as he buried his head under the pillow intending to go back to sleep. “It’s time to get up.”

“It’s Sunday!” he said hugging the pillow she had slept in. He breathed in her scent, closing his eyes.

Hermione got up and walked to the window. The dark clouds from the previous night’s storm were gone. The morning was bright and shiny. The only sign of the rain were the water puddles in the ground and the tiny droplets twinkling on the flowers. She opened the window, letting the cool breeze hit her face, breathing in the fresh morning air.

She turned around to Harry. He was lying on his stomach, sleeping. She smiled at that. Lazily, she went back to bed and lay down next to him. The blankets were tangled around his waist leaving his bare back uncovered.

Slowly, she began to run her nails across his skin, drawing little circles. A moan escaped from his throat. Hermione didn’t know if it was out of pleasure or out of frustration. Finally, he turned his face around to look at her.

“You’re not going to let me sleep, are you?” he asked teasingly.

She smiled at him while bringing her upper body up and resting her weight on her elbow. Harry looked at her. Even when he complained about not being able to sleep in, he had loved waking up next to her.

In fact, he had woken up minutes before her, but hadn’t moved a finger not wanting to wake her up. He knew it was quite an accomplishment for her to sleep through the night. She locked her eyes in his, wondering why he was looking at her like that.

He shifted his body to lie on his side and imitated her posture. “Did you sleep good?” he asked softly, pulling away a strand of hair form her face and gently tackling it behind her ear.

“Yeah, I did,” she answered. “I can’t believe I actually slept all night.”

“I’m glad you did. You need it.” He moved his hand to her face and gently caressed her cheek. Then, he ran a finger under her eyes. “I want to you be okay,” he said in a whisper.

Hermione hadn’t noticed he had started to get closer to her. Instinctively, she looked at his lips and closed her eyes, remembering the one time she had kissed them. She could recall that sensation quite vividly, as if it’d be happening right now. “Hang on,” she thought. “It is happening!”

Harry had closed the distance between them and covered her mouth with his. Instead of that closed-mouth-quick-peck-on-the-lips kiss Hermione had placed on him years ago, this time he was softly nibbling and sucking at her lips.

At first, she didn’t respond to him. She just enjoyed the sensation of his lips, but then her body took over her mind and reacted to his touch. Without thinking she gave in and melted under his arms, kissing him back with the same intensity.

His hands encircled her, softly pulling her on top of him. She followed his lead and soon after, her whole body was resting over his, her hands lost in his raven hair. For several minutes, all that could be heard were gentle moans and sighs as they both explored each other’s mouth and took in each other’s flavor.

Hermione pulled back, looking right into his eyes. “Harry…” she said, but before she could say anything else, he reached out for her lips again. He raised his upper body, making her roll under him.

His tongue explored not only the sweetness of her mouth both also the softness of her neck. He placed soft kisses around her jaw line and down her neck. “Hermione…” he said between kisses. “I love you.”

Hermione’s eyes, which had been closed enjoying the moment, sprung wide open. “What?!” she said.

He lifted his head up and looked straight into her eyes, beaming at her. “I love you, Hermione,” he repeated it for her.

She looked at him not sure of whether she was dreaming or not. She had fantasized about Harry saying those three words to her for years, but it was nothing compared to actually hear him say them. Not only his words were fascinating, his expression was priceless. There was so much love and desire in his eyes, she could almost cry.

He sat up and gently pulling her hands, made her imitate him. “I’ve always loved you and always will,” he said, his gaze locked on her.

His words slowly began to sink on her. “Always?” she asked. “What do you mean always?”

Harry wasn’t quite sure what her question meant. He thought he had talked clearly enough. Still, he repeated it for her. “I mean… always! Since way before, since Hogwarts… I just hadn’t had the guts to tell you.”

Hermione froze. “So that night at St. Mungo’s…”

“I loved you already,” said Harry, thinking that would make her happy.

However, her face didn’t illuminate as he had expected. Instead, a frown appeared. Hermione threw the blankets aside and stood up. Harry was getting anxious, wondering what all this meant.

Hermione seemed to be processing this new information while she was pacing around. Finally, she turned to face him and spoke in an upset tone.

“And why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded to know.

Harry’s body tensed not only because of her question, but mainly due to the anger he could read between the lines. Slowly, he stood up as well. That was a difficult question. One he would’ve preferred not to be asked.

“I… couldn’t,” he started to say.

“Why not?” she quickly said. Her voice sounded even more agitated. She was standing at the opposite side of the bed, her hands resting on her hips, looking questioningly at him.

Harry passed a hand through his messier-than-ever hair. He walked towards the window. Staring at his land for a while, he remained silent. The seconds were tickling away. Without removing his eyes from the window, he spoke.

“I had loads of stuff in my mind,” he said softly. “I couldn’t stop thinking about all the kids that died those days. I couldn’t get their faces out of my head.” Then, turning to see her, he added, “It was too much for me…”

“And you think I don’t know that!” argued Hermione. She walked around the bed and got a little closer to him. “I was there, remember? I saw their faces, too!”

Harry shook his head. Hermione knew exactly what he was thinking. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but before Harry could say a word she interrupted him.

“Don’t tell me it was not the same!” she yelled at him. “You think I didn’t feel bad about the whole thing? You think it didn’t affect me to see them die and not being able to help them?”

Harry looked away. Perhaps she was right, but at that time it hadn’t felt that way to him. He had always thought that the moment he’d finally confess his feelings to Hermione, everything would be happiness. Harry never expected that Hermione would reproach him for his silence.

“Look,” said Harry in a soft voice, after taking a couple deep breaths. He was trying to keep things calm and wished for her anger to melt away. “I know I should’ve told you about all this that day. I know I shouldn’t have left the way I did.” He walked to her, closing the distance between them, and took her hands in his.

“I wish I could have a time turner, go back to that day and undo all the pain I caused you, all the hurt I can see in your eyes.”

For a second, Hermione held his penetrating gaze and was about to give in, but her head was yet not ready. She pulled her hands away from him and took a step back.

“That doesn’t change anything, Harry,” she said in a cold voice. “The damage was already done.”

“Please, don’t say that.” He tried to hold her hands again, but she turned avoiding him. He took a step forward, standing right behind her. Placing a hand on her arm, he spoke in her ear. “Please, don’t act as if everything was finished.”

“Do you have any idea of what you made me go through?” she said, facing him. “You know what all these years were like thinking you didn’t love me?” Hermione closed her eyes and passed a shaky hand through her forehead.

“You know what I almost did because of that?”

Harry sighed. “Eric…” he whispered.

Hermione nodded. Then, quietly she turned away, looking without really watching, out of the window. Her breath was agitated, as if she had been running. Her heart was drumming painfully in her ribcage.

In a matter of minutes, the previous years replayed in her mind: Long sleepless nights, sometimes crying ‘til dawn, loss of appetite, a deep depression, her relationship with Eric Morgan, their sex life, which had been more of an obligation to her. All that because she was trying to get Harry out of her mind, out of her life, but mainly out of her heart.

Still, her efforts were useless. But the resentment she accumulated during those days didn’t let her enjoy the moment. Harry was there, next to her. He had just said he loved her, but there was something holding her back.

Harry had remained silent thinking she needed a moment to process her thoughts. She seemed distant, far away from him. But he was sure of one thing: she still loved him. He had felt it just minutes ago when they were kissing.

She had responded to him with such passion, with such intensity that could only come out of love. Hermione was not a person that could easily fall in and out of love. He knew that. He knew her. During Ron’s wedding, Harry had seen her with Eric. There was no love in her eyes when she’d looked at her fiancé. Harry could bet his life on that.

Hoping that his touch would bring her out of her thoughts, he got closer to her and encircled her with his arms. Hermione, who wasn’t expecting this, jumped in surprise, but quickly pulled away.

“I can’t…” she tried to say. “I have to go.” She took a couple steps away from him.

“Hermione, “ pleaded Harry, extending a hand to her. “Just wait.”

“I have to go!” she repeated.

Seeing that he was again coming to her, and knowing she was not going to be able to resist much longer, she disapparated before he could reach her, still wearing his clothes and leaving hers behind along with an anguished Harry.

--- * --- * --- * ---

“So basically, you wanted him to know exactly how you felt when he walked out on you,” said Ginny to Hermione, who had just told her all about what had happened between Harry and her that morning.

It was well after lunch. Hermione had locked herself in her room all morning. Ginny, worried about her, finally had conjured the door open and forced her to spill everything up.

Ginny had listened intently at her without interrupting, pondering the situation. She wondered why Hermione couldn’t just put her resentment aside and run to Harry’s arms, something she knew Hermione was dying to do no matter what she’d say.

“No,” said Hermione firmly. “That was not my intention.”

“Well, you still did…”

Hermione stood up, they had been sitting on her bed, and paced around. Even though she had replaced Harry’s boxers with some baggy sweatpants, she was still wearing his t-shirt.

“Why don’t you just take a shower,” suggested Ginny. “That’ll help you to relax. Besides,” she said looking at her wristwatch. “The guys will soon be getting here.”

Hermione sighed. “Would it be too late to…”

“Cancel dinner?” said Ginny finishing her sentence for her. “Forget it! I’m not going to let you do this to yourself. It’s your birthday and we all want to share it with you.”

Gently, Ginny started pushing Hermione to the bathroom. “Alright, alright,” said Hermione. Then turning back to Ginny, she added, “Do I still have enough time for a bubble bath?”

“Yes, you do. Just don’t try to drown yourself on the bath!” After that, Ginny closed the door and left Hermione alone.

--- * --- * --- * ---

A couple of hours later, the newlyweds arrived along with the twins, their lovely girls and Neville. They were all in the living room hearing all about Mr. and Mrs. Weasleys’ honeymoon.

“Aaawww, that was so romantic!” sighed Angelina, after they heard about Ron and Luna’s dinner-under-the-stars.

“Where are you guys going for your honeymoon?” Ginny asked Angelina and Fred.

They looked at each other and smiled. “We haven’t decided yet,” informed Angelina. “We’re debating between Italy and Spain.”

“She’s the one that can’t decide,” said Fred. “Either place is fine with me, as long as there’s a beach close by to admire all the beautiful…” He was about to say “girls in bikini” when Angelina shot him a killer look, “… scenery.”

Everyone made an effort to hide their giggles caused by Fred’s silly expression so that Angelina wouldn’t get upset, and quickly tried to change to another topic. Ginny looked anxiously at her wristwatch.

Harry wasn’t there, yet. She had tried to delay dinner to give him time to get there. It seemed, however, that she wasn’t going to be able to push it much further. Hermione hadn’t mentioned Harry’s absence, but Ginny knew she was sad about it.

“Okay then,” said Ginny as she stood up. “Let’s head to the table. Time to eat!”

They all moved to the table and sat around it, animatedly talking. They had just sat down, when the doorbell rang. Ginny and Hermione looked at each other. Before they could react, Neville had already stood up and gone to open the door. Seconds later, Harry walked in.

“Hello everyone!” he greeted. Everyone greeted him back.

Without saying a word to Hermione, Harry walked over to where Ron was sitting and sat on the empty chair next to him. He patted Ron in the shoulder. “Hey mate, how’s married life treating you?”

“Great!” replied Ron with a big grin painted on his face.

“She’s already trained you, right?” said George, smiling teasingly, but his smile quickly disappeared – Alicia elbowed him on the ribs.

“Who’s got who trained?” said Ron mockingly.

The rest of the evening went by amidst jokes and more honeymoon tales. After dinner, they all enjoyed a delicious birthday cake Ginny had baked. Hermione received a couple of presents from her friends.

Harry gave her a couple of original records from The Beatles, from their first recordings. Hermione knew those were valuable collector’s items, but what she appreciated the most was him remembering she liked them.

They had to explain to everybody else what a record player was and how it worked. Hermione would’ve liked to thank him with a tight hug and a big kiss, but Harry was keeping his distance form her. Not because he wanted to, but because Harry knew Hermione needed time to think things through and he was willing to give it to her, even when he didn't like it at all.

It hurt her to see him treat her like that, but she thought it was better that way. She still felt a little resentful towards him and her stubbornness told her she shouldn’t let him soften her with a nice gift.

Still, deep inside she wished she could just erase everything else and bury herself in his arms and stay there for the rest of her life.

10. TEN

TEN

Three days went by after Hermione’s birthday and Harry was nowhere to be seen. Hermione was starting to get anxious. She had spent the first two days thinking about whether to leave things behind and move on to a happy life with Harry or not.

She couldn’t deny to herself she was dying to run to him.

Still, she felt a little sad knowing that Harry had left her without really explaining to her his feeling. It hurt her to see that he hadn’t been brave enough to fight for their love. Of course she understood he had been through a terrible ordeal, but she had too. And Harry needed to accept that he hadn’t been the only one having to cope with all of it.

She had meant to stay strong and show him she wasn’t going to run to him just because he said he loved her. Did he think that she had only been waiting for him all these years? That she’d always wait for him? As if she didn’t have any other options? Shouldn’t he suffer a little?

But when the third day came along and he still didn’t show any sings of life. She couldn’t take it anymore. She forgot all about her resolution and decided to go look for him. She apparated outside his house and stood at his front porch for a while, crackling her knuckles.

Remembering he had mentioned his front door was always unlocked, she stepped forward resolutely, after taking a deep breath. She opened the door - which in fact was unlocked - and walked into the house. Hermione stood in the main hallway for a few seconds, trying to figure out whether he was upstairs or not. Just then she heard noises coming form the kitchen. So, she headed in that direction.

However, the figure that welcomed her into the kitchen was not that of Harry’s. It was a woman. A gorgeous woman with cinnamon skin and long, silky, black hair was placidly drinking juice in Harry’s kitchen, wearing nothing but a white shirt; Harry’s shirt perhaps. It obviously wasn’t hers. Her voluminous naked body could be seen through the fabric.

Hermione froze in the spot and found that the ability to speak had abandoned her. When the woman noticed Hermione’s arrival she placed the glass down and greeted her with a “Hello” said in a strong Spanish accent. Before she could say anything else, Hermione turned around and left the house.

--- * --- * --- * --- * ---

Work had always worked on Hermione as therapy. It helped her forget about how messed up her life was. Hoping it would have the same effect at that moment, Hermione went to her office in the Ministry after disapparating from Harry’s house.

It was past four o’clock and most of the Ministry’s employees were getting ready to leave for the day. Trying her best to avoid them, even ignoring one or two voices calling her name, she made her way into her office. Thankfully for her, Debbie was already gone. The last thing she needed at that time was Debbie, or anybody else for that matter, questioning her.

She wanted to be alone.

Carelessly, she let her body sink in her chair. She had tried her best not to think much on her way to the Ministry, but now that she was sitting alone in her office everything came back to her.

She could still see the woman in Harry’s kitchen. She could remember perfectly well that voluptuous body, those full breasts - whose nipples could be seen through the white shirt. She would have never guessed that Harry liked women like her, with so much…. stuff.

Perhaps all men liked that type of women. Weren’t women like her the ones filling up the pages of all the dirty magazines?

She thought about that for a while. Perhaps that was her problem. She didn’t have that kind of body. That could have been why Harry rejected her in the first place. “No, that can’t be it,” she thought. “Oh Merlin! I hope that wasn’t it.”

What made Hermione upset was not seeing how this woman was the total opposite of her. What really upset her the most was the fact that only a few days ago Harry had told her he loved her and now he seemed to have forgotten all about it. They had even been in bed together. Nothing happened, of course, they only slept together – as in the real meaning of the word - but still they had enjoyed such an intimate moment together. He had kissed her. She had felt so close to him that night.

So, what exactly happened?

Could it be that Harry gave up on her that easily? Could he have forgotten about the love he said he felt in just a couple of days? If so, then what he said he felt for her was not strong enough. Perhaps it wasn’t even love. Love doesn’t go away that fast. She knew that perfectly well.

If that was the kind of love Harry wanted to offer her then she didn’t want it. What for? It wasn’t worth the pain. She had waited for him; she had loved him for so long, and all for nothing. For a pity, silly little love that vanished at the first sign of trouble.

But that didn’t make any sense. Harry was not like that. Perhaps he did love her and his love for her was really as strong as the one she felt. Perhaps he was only trying to forget about her in that woman’s arms. After all, she had pushed him away. He must’ve felt rejected. She drove him to that woman!

How would she have felt if things were the other way around?

Hang on, things once were the other way around, and she didn’t run to another man’s arms. “Well,” she thought, “I started dating Eric.”

“But that was ages after Harry left you,” said a voice inside her. “You didn’t go looking for a one night stand in a dirty pub.”

“And how do you know he picked her up in a dirty pub?” she asked herself.

“Aarrgggghh. I’m going nuts!” Hermione said out loud.

She stood up and started pacing around her office. Trying to clear her head, she walked to a little table in a corner of the room where a jar full of water and a goblet rested. Hermione poured herself some water and drank it slowly.

After so much thinking about it, Hermione realized that it didn’t matter to her what reason Harry had to sleep with that woman. It still hurt her. It hurt her a lot. Even though Harry and Hermione didn’t have a relationship, she felt betrayed. She had always trusted him and now she wasn’t sure if she could ever trust him again.

To her, trust was like a glass vase. Once it breaks, no matter how good of a spell you use to fix it up, a mark would always be there. It can never be the same.

She had gone to Harry’s house to tell him she loved him so much she was willing to make everything aside, forget about her resentment. Now she didn’t know if she should still tell him that.

“Now what?” She asked herself. “What should I do?”

Would his thing with this woman be just a one night stand, or would he be serious about it? Either way, things would never be the same with Harry. She would always remember the image of another woman in his house, right after she had been in bed with him.

--- * --- * --- * --- * ---

At that time, Harry was driving back home. A half smile was playing in his face. He had gone to town to buy some groceries. His pantry was almost empty and he needed to refill it, especially now that he had guests.

About three years ago, the Ministry of Magic had organized several friendly quidditch matches with teams from other countries to strengthen relations with the Ministries of those nations. The best players had been chosen to form the UK’s team to play these games. Harry had been picked out to be the team’s seeker.

One of those matches was played with the Mexican Quidditch Team. It had been a tough game. The Mexican team proved to know a lot about quidditch. After almost three hours, the match was finally won after Harry made a terrific catch of the snitch, bringing the final score to 350 UK - 330 MX.

That day, Harry, Ron - who had not been called to play, but still wouldn’t miss the match - and a few other quidditch players went to The Leaky Cauldron after the match to celebrate. In there, they found a couple of the Mexican players.

Harry invited the Mexicans to join their table. Harry and Ron really liked those guys. They were quite funny and very honest. Harry especially made a good connection with the Mexican Keeper, Carlos Gutierrez, to the point of offering himself to take Carlos around London - to those places that aren’t included in the usual sight seeing tours.

The following day, the two guys along with Carlos’ girlfriend, Lola Rodriguez, got together for lunch and spent the rest of the day driving around the city. Lola had accompanied Carlos in his trip and he hadn’t felt good about leaving her in the hotel while he’d go out and enjoy London up close and personal.

Since that day, Harry became a good friend of both Carlos and Lola. He offered them his house, so that next time they were in London, they’d come and stay with him. They gladly took his word. , this was the second time they had stayed at Harry’s in the last three years.

Harry was putting away the groceries he had just bought when Carlos and Lola walked into the kitchen.

“Hey there!” Harry greeted them. “I brought some goodies. I don’t want you guys to go around saying I’m a bad host.”

“We would never say that!” said Carlos in perfect English, though with a marked accent. “You’ve always been the best host there is.”

“And why are you so quiet today Lola?” asked Harry. It wasn’t usual for her to remain silent for more than five minutes. She always had something to say.

“Well, uh…” she looked at Carlos as if asking for help. Then, she fell silent again.

“There’s something we have to tell you,” finally said Carlos in a serious tone. He pulled a chair for Lola to sit down, sitting next to her afterward. Harry imitated them.

“You guys look so serious. You didn’t break anything, did you?” Harry asked Lola teasingly.

“No,” said Lola looking at her nails. “Not yet.” The previous time they had stayed over, she had accidentally broken a porcelain tea pot Mrs. Weasley had given Harry as a house-warming present.

“Hang on,” said Harry in his most serious tone, but still in a teasing way. “You didn’t eat all my chocolate chip cookies now, did you?”

Lola’s face turned red.

“Ups! I guess I have to tell you two things, then” she replied.

Harry faked an exasperated sound while shaking his head

“And I think you’re not going to like either one of them,” added Lola after a few seconds.

“Nothing can be worse than eating all of my favourite cookies,” said Harry. He had no idea what he was about to hear. Knowing Lola, he expected this “big” thing to be something silly and not that important. She had made a big thing about breaking that tea pot last time.

Seeing that Lola still didn’t seem to have the courage to tell Harry what had happened, Carlos took the lead. “Someone came to see you while you were out.” Then looking at Lola, he added, “We think it was your girlfriend.”

Harry looked form one to the other with a puzzled expression. “I don’t have a girlfriend,” he said.

“Well, it was a woman,” Carlos continued. “And she saw Lola.”

“And…”

“Well, she saw more of Lola than most people usually see, except me of course.” Lola seemed to blush even more at that. She lowered her face and didn’t raise her eyes at all.

“I don’t…”

“Well, you see…” Carlos interrupted. “We were alone in the house. You had gone out and you didn’t mention you were expecting anybody. And well… You know how it is… when a man and a woman love each other, and they are alone in a house… things happen.”

Harry was beginning to feel frustrated with Carlos. “Will you just tell me where you’re going with this?”

“The thing is this girl may have gotten the wrong impression.” He looked at Harry thinking that should be clear enough for anybody to understand. Harry, however, was getting more confused by the minute.

“She thought I was in bed with you!” Lola finally said.

Harry looked at her not quite believing his ears. Lola saw the clueless expression in his face and rephrased it for him.

“I was here in the kitchen, wearing nothing but Carlos’ shirt and she saw me,” said Lola speaking to the floor. “I was just about to tell her that you weren’t home when she left. She didn’t give me a chance to say anything,” she added in a whimper. “I would have explained things to her if she had only given me the chance, but she… I didn’t mean to… I’m… really sorry Harry.”

“We can talk to her if you want us to,” offered Carlos quickly.

“She was a very pretty brunette with curly brown hair…” Lola started saying.

“Yeah, I think I know who she was,” interrupted Harry. He knew that woman could only be Hermione. “I'm sure it was Hermione. Oh... and don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to her.”

"You mean Hermione... as in "Your" Hermione?" asked Lola, finally meeting his eyes.

Harry smiled at that and then nodded with his head.

“Oh boy! You sure you don’t want me to explain everything to her,” asked Lola shyly.

“Don’t worry about it. It‘s okay,” said Harry reassuringly, even when he wasn’t sure just how okay things were.

“Now… about my cookies…”

11. ELEVEN

A/N: After reading some of the reviews, I noticed that I didn’t do a good job writing the last part of Chap. 10. The whole thing about the cookies was meant to be a joke. Since the situation was kind of tense, Harry -actually me as the writer - wanted to make an uncomfortable moment feel less tense. I guess I just didn’t manage it that well. Harry does care more about what Hermione could have thought after seeing Lola than about the cookies. Just wanted to clear that out.

BTW, there’s only one more chapter to come after this one.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ELEVEN

After hearing what Lola and Carlos had to say, Harry run to Ginny’s house. He knew Hermione must have taken things the wrong way. When Ginny opened up the door to him, she looked questioningly at him.

“Is Hermione here?” he asked, without even saying hello first.

“Hermione?” repeated a surprised Ginny. “I thought she was with you. She went to see you hours ago.”

Harry passed a hand through his raven hair. He was afraid Hermione may do something stupid, like go back to Eric. “Yes! I know that. It’s just that, well ….”

“You argued!?”

“Not exactly, I didn’t even see her.”

Ginny looked at him, now completely confused. In as few words as he could, Harry explained to Ginny what had happened, hoping she’d be able to guess where she may be.

“Are you sure she’s your friend’s girlfriend?” asked Ginny teasingly. Harry looked at her with exasperation written all over his handsome face. “Just kidding!” added Ginny between giggles.

“Ginny, please… do you have any idea where Hermione could have gone?” asked Harry desperately. He felt he was wasting valuable minutes. “I need to find her.”

Ginny crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head to the side, thinking hard. “Well, I’m sure she didn’t go to her parents’. She’s had some issues with her mother lately.” Ginny started pacing around. Harry was looking form Ginny to his wristwatch. “I know she wouldn’t have gone to Luna's. She and Ron are having dinner at the Burrow tonight.”

Harry was about to tell her to forget about and that he’d look for her on his own, when Ginny’s face illuminated.

“Hang on, I think I know where she may be.”

--- * --- * --- * --- * ---

It was no use. No matter where Hermione would hide, the disappointment and the pain she felt weren’t going to go away. She had been in her office for almost three hours and she hadn’t been able to take it all out of her mind.

Resigned, she decided to go home. She walked out of her office and guided her steps towards the lift. She was waiting for it to arrive when she heard a voice coming form behind her.

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here. Ms. Granger!” a voice said in a mocking way.

Hermione recognized that voice immediately. For some reason, she always felt nauseous whenever she heard it too close to her.

“Malfoy,” said Hermione turning around to face him. “I can’t say it’s a pleasure to see you.”

During the final battle, Malfoy had turned against the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. He had helped the Ministry even before those last days, sending anonymous notes with very detailed information. Still, even when he changed sides, his enmity with the trio - and especially with Harry - had not gone away.

“That makes two of us!” he replied sarcastically, walking closer to her.

“And just what are you doing walking around the Ministry corridors at this hour,” Malfoy said.

“That’s not really your concern, is it?” added Hermione quickly in a defiant tone.

Malfoy smiled at that. “For Merlin’s bird! Nothing that relates to you is my concern.”

“Save your energy Malfoy,” said Hermione firmly. “Your words don’t bother me. Perhaps you haven’t noticed,…” she said also getting closer to him. They were just a step away from each other. “…but I don’t care about what you think.”

“Perhaps you should,” he added in a slimy tone. “Regardless of what an important position you may hold in the Ministry Granger, you will never stop being who you really are… a filthy mudblood! Even Potter realized it. He doesn‘t hang around you that much, does he?”

Immediately, Hermione took out her wand and pointed it directly to Malfoy’s groin. “Keep your mouth shut Malfoy,” said Hermione strongly. “Unless you want to lose your precious jewels.”

Malfoy looked nervously at Hermione’s wand. Her hand was firm and her eyes were defiant. She was quite mad, and she wouldn't mind taking this opportunity to vent her anger on him. Slowly, Malfoy pushed her hand away from him, while keeping his eyes locked on hers.

“Now, be nice Granger,” he said. “You wouldn’t want to play rough with me.” Getting even closer to her, he spoke almost touching her nose with his. “I know some tricks you wouldn’t want me to show you.”

Without moving back, but holding his gaze, Hermione replied. “I’m not afraid of you. And believe me, I also know a few tricks.”

Both of them had been so focused on defying each one, they didn’t notice someone else had arrived.

“Get you ugly face off of her!”

Malfoy jumped at the sound of Harry’s voice. “Potter. What a coincidence.! We were just talking about you,” he said, sarcasm dripping in his voice. “But I must say, if you came to the rescue of our lovely… Ms. Granger here, you’ve wasted your time.” Then looking at Hermione again, he added, “She doesn’t need any help.”

After saying that, he slowly walk backward to then finally turn and go away in the same direction he came form. For the first time since Harry had arrived, Hermione looked at him. Harry was sad to see there was so much pain in those brown eyes he loved so much.

“We need to talk.”

Looking away, Hermione replied. “We have nothing to talk.” She walked towards the lift, in which Harry had arrived, and got in. Quickly Harry got in after her.

“Yes we do,” he said firmly.

As soon as the lift stopped, Hermione walked out. She was about to get away when Harry grabbed her by the elbow.

“I’m not letting you go until you heard me!”

Hermione sighed. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked directly at Harry. “I’m listening,” she said.

“Okay,” Harry thought. He let go of her elbow and took a deep breath, hoping that Merlin would put the right words in his mouth. “I know you went looking for me. Lola told me.”

An exasperated sound came out of Hermione’s throat. She didn’t care about the woman’s name. Seeing her reaction, Harry quickly grabbed her wrist to make sure she wouldn’t run away.

“Listen to me! I have nothing to do with her,” he said in a clear, firm way. “She’s my friend Carlos’ girlfriend. Both of them are spending the night in my place.”

Hermione rolled her eyes on him.

“I’ve known the two of them for a few years now. I know I hadn’t mentioned them to you, but… it never occur to me that something like this would happen.” He looked right into her brown eyes and got closer to her. Hermione remained silent. Harry was afraid she hadn’t even listened to him at all.

"So, you see... she's just a friend," said Harry, trying to help her mind process the information. "I wasn't even in the house when you showed up. I would never do something like that to you."

Hermione grabbed a strand of hair in her fingers and played nervously with it. After a few seconds, she finally spoke. "How can I know this is true?" she asked.

"You can come and meet them," he quickly responded. "In fact, they offered to explain things to you, but I thought I could convince you on my own."

Hermione looked down at her feet for a while. She wasn’t sure exactly when or if she had agreed, but before she knew it, they arrived at Harry’s place.

--- * --- * --- * ---

Hermione was pretty sure she would feel quite embarrassed meeting Harry’s friends, after all the mixed up she had made. On the contrary, they made her feel as if nothing had happened.

“You don’t know how great it is to finally meet you,” said Carlos squeezing Hermione’s hand. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

“You mean… since this morning?” asked Hermione.

“Since always,” said Carlos between chuckles. “Since the first day we met Harry. Somehow you would always come out in the conversation. Hermione used to say this… Hermione wouldn’t have done that… Hermione sure would love to see this.”

Hermione looked at Harry to see his reaction. He smiled, not looking at her. She then looked back at Carlos.

“Must have been quite boring I’m sure,” she said.

“A lot,” responded Carlos teasingly, but soon regretted it. Lola elbowed him in the ribs. “But I understand him, though.” Then looking into his girl’s eyes, he said, “I know what it’s like to be crazy about a girl. She’s all you’re able to think about.”

Looking quite pleased by that, Lola placed an arm over his shoulders. “You do?” she asked him.

“Of course. Tu sabes cuanto te quiero amor.” Lovingly, Lola placed a kiss in her boyfriend’s lips. Harry and Hermione looked at each other and smiled.

“Sorry, guys,” said Carlos as soon as Lola released him.

“Don’t mention it!” said Harry. “Well… what do you guys say we all go out for dinner?”

Harry took them to a muggle restaurant in the city. During dinner, Hermione found out that Carlos and Lola were only staying at Harry’s for that night. They were really headed to Spain, but had decided to stop in London to say hello to Harry.

“Can’t you stay at least one more day?” asked Harry.

“Sorry, but we can’t,” replied Carlos. “Some of Lola’s cousin’s are expecting us in Madrid. We’re celebrating Lola’s birthday there!”

“Some of your cousins?” asked Hermione curiously. “May I ask how many cousins you have?”

Lola looked at Carlos and smiled. “Quite a few,” she responded.

“Like how many?” insisted Harry. “Four, five?”

“Well, including my sisters and I we’re a total of 28 cousins, first cousins!” Then looking at Hermione’s and Harry’s open mouths, she added, “and that’s just on my mom’s side of the family.”

She proceeded to tell them she was part of a big family, quite the Latino style. The only big family Harry and Hermione knew were the Weasleys, who added up to a dozen - that was already big enough. Being Harry and Hermione single kids, they both would have loved to grow up in a big family.

--- * --- * --- * ---

After dinner, Harry took Hermione home - Carlos and Lola were in the car with them. He parked right in front of her house. He quickly got out of the car and opened the door for her. After saying good bye to Carlos and Lola, she walked towards the front door with Harry at her side.

There were a lot of things they had to say to each other. Harry looked at the car. His friends were waiting for him. He turned his back on them to face Hermione. Slowly, he grabbed one of her hands and caressed it gently.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked, his voice sounding more as a plea than a question.

“Of course,” responded Hermione in a soft voice.

Harry smiled. He looked right into her eyes and was happy to see there was no trace of the anger he had seen that evening at the Ministry, nor was the resentment of the previous days. Not being able to stop himself, he leaned forward. Just before reaching her lips, he stopped to give her a chance to back away, in case she wanted to, but was quite glad to see she didn’t.

Instead, she smiled at him and closed the distance between their mouths. Leaving aside anything else that wasn‘t the love they felt foe each other, their lips finally found each other. Harry’s lips eagerly took in hers, while she responded equally.

In the sweetest kiss, Harry made her a promise - he would never leave her again.

--- * --- * --- * ---

The next morning Hermione woke up quite energized. Sleeping through the night was happening more and more often for her, without assistance from a sleeping draught. She got to work more than ready to get her day going. Even though it was a rainy day, the day had never looked better to her.

Harry had sent her a note earlier that morning at her house. Before she woke up, Hedwig had arrived and was patiently waiting for her to wake up sitting on top of her desk. Apparently, she had been told not to interfere with her sleep time.

Harry had a few things to take care of during the day, so he was going to pick her up after work. They would be having dinner at Harry’s. He was going to cook for her.

Hermione waited impatiently for the day to end. She felt anxious, even a little nervous - like a fifteen year old waiting for her first date to start. Twenty minutes before four, the time Harry was picking her up, she went to the ladies’ toilet wanting to check on her hair and make-up.

She knew Harry didn’t pay attention to those details. Still, she wanted to look good. She smiled at her image on the mirror, satisfied with her reflection. She took off the coat of her paint suit to make her outfit look a bit more relaxed. Finally, she undo the bun that had tied her curls all day and let them hang freely.

Exactly at four, a knock on her office door announced Harry’s arrival. She sure was thankful that Debbie had taken the day off. She wouldn’t have wanted Debbie’s bubbly personality to make things uncomfortable.

“Hey there,” he greeted after he stepped into her office. “You ready?”

Hermione was about to say “I’ve been ready for years”, but limited herself to a simple “Yes.”

They left the office and headed towards the lift. Once they were ascending, Harry turned to her. He looked at her long curls. He loved to see her with her hair down. He run his fingers through her hair, grabbing some of her curls. Slowly, he brought them up to his nose.

“I just love your hair,” he said to her.

Hermione was going to say "And I love you," but Harry gave her no chance. He closed his arms around her waist and brought her closer to him. Seconds later, he was kissing her desperately.

His tongue started tracing her lips, begging for entrance. She responded to his touch, melting in his arms. There was nothing stopping them now. No resentment, no guilt, no misunderstandings, no Eric.

They felt the need to breath a few seconds after the lift opened up. A couple of old wizards that had been waiting for the lift were looking at them, frozen in the spot, with their mouths wide open.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and smiled. Not caring about the old wizards, they walked pass them and headed out of the Ministry.

12. TWELVE

A/N: Well, here it is. The last chapter! I just want to take the opportunity to thank all of your comments. They sure make my day. J

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TWELVE

When Harry and Hermione got to his place, he hurried to open up the car’s door for her. Dinner was waiting for them, but he wasn’t quite ready to get inside just yet. He stopped half way to the front porch and grabbed her hand.

“What do you say we take a walk first?” asked Harry.

“Sure, that’d be great.”

Still holding to her hand, Harry headed towards the orchard in the back. Hermione followed him, enjoying just being with him. For a few minutes, they walked in silence. Harry had so many things in his mind; so many things he wanted to say to her. He had even rehearsed them in his mind that morning.

But now that he was next to her, holding her hand, nothing would come to his mouth. There seemed to be no perfect way to tell her what he wanted. There was not a word in his vocabulary that could describe how he felt at that time.

Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks. Hermione looked at him curiously. He took hold of both her hands and got a little closer to her.

“Hermione…” he said. Then, he fell silent.

Hermione smiled at him, somehow guessing what was going through his mind. She could see he was having an internal struggle.

Harry locked his gaze on her brown eyes, and made an effort to speak again. “Hermione… I just don’t know where to start.”

“I do!”

Hermione stood on her tip toes and covered his mouth with hers. Eagerly, Harry responded to her and let go of her hands to encircle his arms around her instead. Their faces pulled apart just enough to be able to look into the other’s eyes.

Hermione sighed happily and smiled at Harry. Lovingly, he rested his forehead on hers and closed his eyes for a few seconds.

“There’s so many things I want to tell you,” he said in a whisper. “I know I made a huge mistake when I left you alone for so long.”

Hermione pulled away to make him look directly into her eyes.

“We both made some big mistakes, Harry. For starters, I should’ve chosen a better time to talk to you about my feelings.” Harry opened his mouth to interrupt her, but she placed a finger on his mouth to keep him quiet.

“But that’s not important anymore. It’s all in the past, Harry.” She ran her hand through his hair - something she had always wanted to do. “What matters is what’s ahead of us and what we make of it. Don’t you think?”

Harry smiled at her. “You’re right.” Gently, he caressed her cheek with his fingers. “You’re always right.”

“Not always Harry,” she said smiling at him. “Not always.”

--- * --- * --- * ---

A couple of weeks went by and Harry and Hermione’s relationship was only going from good to better. Everybody was so please to finally see the two of them together, as it should’ve always been! Love was in the air.

That Friday, Hermione had apparated at Harry’s home way before he got home. She needed to get some research done in “her” library for work. She didn’t actually need that until Monday, but Hermione was not the person that would leave things to the last minute.

When Harry got home he heard noises and wondered who that could be. He wasn’t expecting to see his girl there.

“Hey honey!” greeted Harry glad to see her. He walked up to her and placed a kiss on top of her head.

Hermione was sitting in one of the couches. She raised her head to greet him with a big smile. Then, she went back to her book. Harry sat at her side.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here. When I heard noises I thought someone had broken in.”

Hermione looked up quickly. “Oh I’m sorry! I know I didn’t tell you I was coming,” she started to apologize. “It’s just that I needed to check something up and…”

“Hey!” Harry interrupted her. “I’m not complaining. I’m just surprised to find you here.” Then getting closer to her, he added, “…pleasantly surprised.”

“You are…”

“Of course,” he said taking one of her hands in his and placing a kiss on top of it. “There’s nothing better than to come home and find you here… waiting for me.”

“I wasn’t exactly waiting for you…” she said in a whisper as he let go of her hand and kissed her neck instead. Harry smiled after hearing her words, and got as close to her as he could.

“I would love to find you here…” he said as he took the book she had been holding and tossed it aside. “… all the time.” Slowly, he moved form her neck up to her mouth, tracing the way with his tongue. Hermione responded throwing her arms around his neck and didn’t even notice when he started to push her down.

They laid on the couch, Harry on top. Hermione felt how the weight of his body sank her down into the cushions. His mouth was eagerly taking in the flavors of her mouth as his hands explored her body. Hermione’s hands found their way to his messy hair.

Wanting to taste as much of her as possible, Harry moved away from her lips and traveled to her ear, biting softly. A soft moan escaped out of her throat, igniting his blood. He looked right into her brown eyes. They expressed the same passion and the same desire he was feeling at that time.

He pulled away from her and with a quick movement took his shirt off. Hermione was pleased with the sight. Immediately, her hands caressed his firm muscles. She confirmed they felt as strong and masculine as they looked. She also noticed he trembled under her touch, and that only made her want to touch him even more.

Harry had dreamed about having her like this, her soft body under his, way too many times. The hope of making it a reality had kept him going through the lonely years away from her. His feelings had been frozen in time, waiting to be released. Now that it was really happening, all those feelings had woken up.

Trying to find a way to get them out, he went back to kissing her so desperately. Somehow, his hands got inside her sweater and a minute later it was lying in the floor right next to his shirt. He admired the whiteness of her skin, which contrasted perfectly with his.

Hermione’s mind had totally abandoned her. She was not thinking about the moment. She was only enjoying it with all of her senses. Her passion and her need for him were the ones responsible for her actions. They made her hands move down to her pants and try to undo his fly.

Harry felt how her small hands started struggling with his pants. She was having trouble with it. Hermione let out a sigh of frustration, making Harry smile. To help her out, he stood up and stretched a hand out to her so she could do the same.

That position made things easier for her. Seconds later, Harry's pants were pooling down in his ankles. Quickly, he stepped out of them.

Placing his hands on her waist, he embraced her body as he went back to kissing her. Hermione closed her arms around his neck. Wanting to be as close to him as humanly possible, she lifted her legs up and circled them around his waist.

Pleased by that, Harry supported her weight placing his hands under her soft bottom. Slowly, he began to walk. Hermione wasn't aware of anything else but his mouth on hers. Before she knew it, they were both upstairs in Harry's bedroom.

Gently, he placed her body on his big four-poster, laying next to her. The room was dimly illuminated by several candles that had lighted on their own as they entered the room.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked in a whisper.

“Totally,” she replied between kisses.

That was all the assurance he needed. After that, the few garments that still remained were quickly dropped to the floor.

For several minutes, Harry explored her body form tip to end, using both his hands and his tongue. He wanted to memorize the atlas of her body until he was able to see it even with his eyes closed.

Waves of sensations traveled around Hermione’s body as she felt the contact of his fingertips on her deepest corner. Her eyes closed as she was invaded by emotions she had almost forgotten existed.

Muscles she didn’t even know she had trembled under the warmth of his tongue. Harry was eagerly taking in all of her flavors, bringing satisfaction to both of them. Gradually, he leveled his body with hers.

Hermione pulled up his face, taking his lips with hers. Between moans and sighs, they kissed with so much passion. Slowly, Harry found his way in and moved into her most intimate place.

In a simultaneous rhythm, they were able to reach the highest point of pleasure. Hermione felt her soul left her body for a few minutes as she climbed the highest mountain and screamed Harry's name at the top of her lungs.

He taught her just how wonderful and enjoyable that intimate moment can be when two people love each other. Something she had doubted before.

Seeing her get to that degree of satisfaction only made Harry feel even more pleased. Being inside of her was a feeling like no other. A sense of completion, of wholeness came over him.

That was where he was meant to be; as if their bodies had been made to fit right into each other's. Harry knew at that moment he would never be able to be with anybody else.

They were meant to be together and as long as he lived he'd make sure nothing would come between them. He had learned his lesson. He had unconsciously allowed a big distance between them. Worse of all, he had let his own doubts get in the way of their happiness. But he would never do that again.

Right there, as they were regaining their breath, laying in his bed, he made a promise to himself. He would never let her out of his side. On the contrary, Harry would make sure that Hermione would fall in love with him over and over again, so that she would never want to leave him either.

Hoping that the days ahead of them would only bring them a lifetime of happiness, he closed his eyes falling into a sweet sleep having the woman he loved the most sleeping at his side.

Look into my eyes - you will see
What you mean to me
Search your heart - search your soul
And when you find me there you'll search no more
Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for
You can't tell me it's not worth dyin' for
You know it's true
Everything I do - I do it for you

Look into my heart - you will find
There's nothin' there to hide
Take me as I am - take my life
I would give it all I would sacrifice
Don't tell me it's not worth fightin' for
I can't help it there's nothin' I want more
Ya know it's true
Everything I do - I do it for you

Written by: B. Adams, M. Kamen, R.J. Lange