Chapter 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Author's Note: Thanks again for the reviews! Anyway, I know, I know, two updates in day. But I'm in such a mood that I might as well post it. Enjoy!
"He told me," I tell her as we walk along the narrow stretch of street. Everything's dark and quiet, except for the buzz of invisible wasps. Above us, the moon continues to glow, softly. A hint of pink surrounds its curved edges. I wonder if I'm seeing things.
She doesn't say anything. In fact, she doesn't do anything but walk. Her hands are in her pockets. She doesn't even try to touch me.
"You never told me about that part, you know," I continue. I want to get to the bottom of this.
She stops and she takes a deep breath. She looks at the moon and she gives a little shiver. I continue with my slow pace but she remains firmly in place.
"Hermione?" I call out to her. The moon's light reflects on her face. She stands there a vision of luminosity.
"Does that give us a reason?" She asks back. This time, she hides her face as I try to comprehend that simple question.
And then it dawns on me. Slowly, I make my way back to her. The moon glistens on the soft curves of her face again. I inhale a wisp of cinnamon.
"It doesn't," I answer. I close my eyes and she closes her eyes.
"That's why," she replies as she slowly opens her eyes again.
We stare at each other and then she places a hand on my cheek, cupping it.
"Don't," I tell her.
But she doesn't remove her hand. She just touches me and I hear her heart pounding. I beg with her again.
"Hermione, don't. It doesn't give us any reason."
This time, with such resoluteness, she places her other hand on my other cheek so that she cups my face with both hands.
"It doesn't give us a reason, but another things does," she states, matter-of-factly. She's still nervous and she's still shaking but she strives.
"Don't say it," I beg with her. I know what she's trying to say. I know because I know. I know because I feel the same way too. And it's going to break me apart. Because once she says it, I can never go back. I will never go back.
So I grab her hands. I grab her hands and remove it from my face. Not because I don't want her touching me, but because I want it too much. Too much that it's going to consume us and destroy us.
She begins to cry.
And it pains me. Every time we're together she ends up crying, and when she's gone, I end up crying. It's pathetic and yet it's the only thing we can do.
Deliver us from temptation, the phrase repeats itself over and over again, in and out of my head.
"I'm sorry," she apologizes between sobs. She doesn't throw her arms around me nor do I try to hold her this time. We avoid any contact because it will only undo us.
"Don't be," I plead.
She just continues to sob, softly. Finally, she looks up at me, her eyes red, her cheeks flushed. She tells me,
"It's hard, it's too hard. And I've ruined it."
"What are you talking about?" I ask. I try to resist the all too consuming urge of touching her, even a strand of her hair. To comfort her, to hold her and tell her over and over again that it's all right. But I can't.
"This. Our friendship. We can never go back."
"You didn't ruin it, Hermione. Yes, we've gone a little too far, but it's not your fault. Besides, we can still go back."
"We're not kidding anyone, Harry," she states, painfully.
"You told me yourself that nothing's impossible," I reply, thinking about the pink moon. Immediately, she gazes up to the sky.
She gives a small smile.
"I guess you're right," she finally says.
"I know how painful this is, Hermione," I state, quietly. She looks at me straight in the eye and she understands.
"I just wish things were easier," she replies back, her gaze unflinching, daring. Daring me to continue with this line of thought. Daring me to tell her the truth. Daring me to voice out the truth we both know. Daring me to break myself free.
"Things are never easy," I finally say.
She nods her head. We continue walking again, not really sure where we're heading. I hear her take a deep breath. And then she asks,
"How come you never made a move, Harry?"
Try as we may to move on, try as we may to forget everything, we just can't. We just can't because it will forever haunt us.
"Because I can never take you away from him," I finally answer.
"Why?"
"I'm Harry Potter."
She nods her head in understanding.
"Didn't you ever think about what I feel?" She asks, after a lengthy pause.
"I did. Trust me, I did. But I couldn't hurt him. And I couldn't hurt you."
"You hurt me by doing that."
She stops again and she forces me to look at her.
"I'm a bloody fool, Hermione. Don't listen to me."
She takes a step towards me. And another. And another, until she's so close that I can feel her breath on my neck. She closes the little distance between us with a hug. And I hug her back. And I realize just how perfect this is.
I realize just how perfect this is if she's not married. I realize just how perfect this is if she's mine and mine alone. I realize how perfect this is if it's just me and her and no one else.
But life is not perfect.
So I savor having her in my arms, her scent possessing me until I can't think of anything else but her. And so we stand there, like two lovers, holding unto each other like nothing else in the world matters.
But we're not two lovers.
We're two people tempting fate, tempting temptation. We're two people striving, fighting, and clawing our way to stop and resist the urges.
So when we break apart, there's no kiss. There's no vocal declaration of our love. There's nothing except the silent betrayal of our eyes.
Because when I look at her and she looks at me, it only means one thing.
I love her. She loves me.
We stare at each other, for the hundredth time. But we say more that way. And then she averts her eyes from mine and looks up. She looks at the moon again.
It's pink.
Really pink.
And when she stares back at me again, her eyes, unlike before, are unreadable. I strive to understand what she's trying to express, but I can't. I try to ask her, but then I stop myself.
I look at the pink moon again, and I realize.
I realize that everything is possible. Really possible.
So I let go. I break free. I forget about everything and anything. It's just me and her and no one else.
So I grab her, and she's a bit startled. I envelope her in my arms and she clings to me.
"Just tonight," I say.
She doesn't reply but she buries her face on my chest.
"Nothing is impossible," I repeat over and over again.
And with a crack, we're both gone.
-->