Hermione rushed out of the crowded hall and into the girl's bathroom slamming the door behind her. She turned and was glad to find it empty as her tears began to fall. She found the nearest toilet stall and barricaded herself inside as she slid down the back of stall door and buried her face in her knees allowing herself to cry harder.
"How did this happen?" she asked herself through a sob.
She reached up and ripped a piece of toilet paper off the roll to soak up her tears. Inhaled deeply and tried to abate her sobs but the images of Harry with that girl and her mother ridiculing her in the middle of the hall kept popping into her head and the tears she tried to diminish came back stronger then ever.
She dropped her head to her knees again and allowed her sobs consume her. Her breathing became rigid and her chest hitched with every vicious sob. Since she was a child Hermione had always had every aspect of her life planned out. How did it all go so horribly wrong?
Then the bathroom door swung open, and Hermione quieted her tears momentarily. She heard the door swing shut, followed by solid footsteps on the marble floor that slowly paced down the large row of bathroom stalls.
It's probably Shelby coming to drag me back to the part, Hermione thought to herself. She released her breath.
"Hermione?" called a voice. "Are you in here?"
That definitely isn't Shelby.
"Harry?" Hermione questioned.
Hermione heard his footsteps shuffle outside her stall door.
"Yeah," Harry said. "It's me, now open up this door."
"Harry," Hermione sniffled. "What the bloody hell are you doing in here? This is the women's loo!"
"I want to ask you a question," he replied. "So will you open this door?"
"No," she said, as her voice choked sob.
"Oh, please Hermione?"
"No!" she snapped.
He's using me, Hermione thought. He has to be. Why else would he have slept with me?
Harry could hear her trying to stifle her tears, and it broke his heart to hear it.
"Hermione please open this door," he begged. "I am not leaving until this door is opened and we talk. So you either you do it willingly or I will use my wand."
She gave another choked sob.
"Harry, please…just leave me alone," she asked, surrendering to her tears again, making Harry's heart break in two. "I want to be by myself. Go back to the party."
"No, I am not leaving you alone like this. So just open this door."
"Harry, please…" she begged.
"No," he told her. "I am reaching for my wand."
"Harry…"
"It's in my hand. I'm about to…"
The lock clicked, and Harry heard her shift behind the door.
He put his wand back in his pocket and gently pushed the stall door open to find Hermione sitting on the toilet lid with her face buried in her hands and shaking violently from harsh breaths. She took in a gulp of air and peered up at him. Her eyes red and swollen and it pained Harry more.
Harry stepped into the stall and gently locked the door behind him. He knelt down before her and looked into her eyes. "Hey," he said gently.
Hermione didn't respond, only looking up at him through her long wet eyelashes.
"You okay?"
Don't trust him, he shagged you then brought another date to YOUR birthday party.
She shrugged and proceeded to tear the piece of toilet paper in her hands, trying adversely to avoid eye contact with Harry. After a long silence and the feeling of Harry's eyes burning into her head as she tried to calm her tears, she peered up at him again. "What is, Harry?" she asked. "What are you doing in here?"
"I came to ask if you wanted to dance with me," He told her.
Her eyes shot up to look at his face. "What?" she asked, feeling slightly offended. "Is that your idea of some funny joke?"
"Well not a joke, parse, more like temperate sarcasm to cut the tension of the room," he admitted with a lopsided smirk, trying to crack a smile out of her.
She glared at him, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. "That's not funny, Harry," she said, wiping away the tears leaking from her eyes. "Why are you really here?"
Harry shifted closer to her and grabbed her hips firmly. "You are my best friend. I see you get hurt by your mother's unfair public ridicule and then you run in here crying," he told her in a serious tone. "Why the bloody hell do you think I'm here, Hermione?"
He's lying.
"Oh," she said feeling stupid, though still refusing to believe that Harry wasn't using her.
"For the record, I really did have every intention on asking you to dance tonight," Harry said. "You really look beautiful."
Liar.
She fought back the urge to crack a small smile. "Thanks," she replied. "But I don't think your date would like hearing you say that."
He shot her a look. "My what?" he asked.
"Your date!" Hermione replied, emphasizing the word date. "You know green dress, bigger boobs then your head, long brown hair.
Harry thought for a moment. "Oh!" he shouted. "Hermione, that wasn't my date. She's was the Keeper's sister, from the first Quidditch team I was on. Her name is Mariah LeComb. She was just asking about the season. I didn't bring a date tonight."
"Oh," she said looking down at the torn tissue in her hand. She felt stupid for automatically assuming, but apart of her couldn't let go of the concept that Harry was still lying to her.
"Hermione, talk to me, are you alright?"
She pushed aside her mixed emotions and opened up her to mouth to speak when a stinging lump caught in her throat. She closed her eyes and choked back on the sob just as the heavy tears began to fall.
Harry watched her for a moment and his heart broke in two. "Aw, Mione, come here," he told her, pulling her against him. She fell easily against him and immediately buried her face into his chest and clutched the back of his shirt. Taken aback at how easily she came to him, Harry wrapped his arms around her tightly and let her cry as he rocked her back and forth.
Ten minutes later, Hermione's sobs began to subside, and a relieved Harry had an idea pop into his head.
"Do you want to get out of here?" he asked.
Hermione nodded against his cheat. "Yeah," she murmured.
"Want to get coffee?"
"I don't want to go to a crowded place."
"I'll take you home then," he said.
She shook her head against his chest.
"No?" he questioned. "My place…?"
Harry could feel her thinking hard about the question. "Do you still have that double mint chocolate chip brownie fudge ice cream in your freezer?"
"Er…yeah."
"Ok then," she replied.
Harry chuckled and stood up, holding out a hand to help her up. They walked over to the sinks and Hermione leaned in to gaze at her reflection.
She groaned, peering at her smudged make up, blotchy face, and disorderly hair. "I look awful!" she cried.
"No, you look beautiful," he corrected.
She smiled weakly at him then returned her attention to the mirror to fix her appearance. She couldn't understand why she was allowing herself to do this herself. She was angry and confused about Harry, yet she was allowing herself to go over to his house again. She would probably end up getting hurt, but that didn't stop her. Why? She didn't know. She couldn't help it. All she knew was that apart of her was telling her it was the right thing to do. But the other part of her was screaming, "He's lying to you!"
"Er, Hermione, do you think that we should maybe tell people you leaving?" he asked. "You know, since it is your party."
"No, I'll send Ron an apology owl later."
"Ok," Harry asked, holding out his hand. "Ready?"
She turned to Harry and stared at his hand as if she accepted it she would be accepting something huge along with it. She hesitantly took his hand and met his gaze. "I think so," she said staring into his eyes.
Within the blink in of an eye she had gone from being in the girl's lavatory at the Ministry to being in Harry's lavish one bedroom flat. She felt her feet land on the hardwood flooring of the kitchen and kept her eyes shut as she allowed the eerie feeling of being sucked through a straw passed over her. Harry let go of her hand and she heard him walk over to the fridge and open it up. She shook her head clear and opened her eyes. Harry was pulling the ice cream out and reached for a bowl and a spoon.
Hermione's eyes darted to the couch just a few feet away where her and Harry had sex just hours before. She was suddenly hit with the regret of coming. Fear soared through her body. Her mind was screaming for her to run while her heart told her stay.
"I can't do this, Harry. Sorry I have to go!" she announced. She turned to rush to the door and just as she was about to reach the doorknob, she felt Harry grab her other wrist and pull her back.
"Hermione, what is it?"
"Harry, please, I have to go!" she pleaded.
"No," he said not letting go of her. She tried to pull away from his grasp but he grabbed a hold of her other arm and pulled her against him. "Not until you tell me what you can't do. Hermione, please tell me what's going on!"
"Let go!"
"Never."
Hermione struggled against his vast strength to pull away but it was no use. Harry now had his arms wrapped tightly around the middle, her back pressed firmly against his front as she fought against him. "Harry…please?" she begged him, her heavy sobs returning. "Please…don't hurt me."
Harry felt like he had been hit with a sack of bricks at her words. Her sobs grew louder and Harry felt go limp in his arms. He lowered her onto the floor and she crumpled on entrance rug bawling. He looked down at her and slowly lowered himself onto the ground beside her. His brow furrowed with shock as he tried to register her words.
"Hurt you?" he asked, more himself then Hermione.
Hermione kneeled on the frayed rug and leaned forward as hugged her ribs tightly, fighting for air through violent tears. Harry focused his eyes on her and watched her shaking with vicious sobs before he attempted to reach out to her. When she recoiled he felt dejected.
"Hermione," he asked in a calm tone. "What is it? Please tell me…"
"You!" she cried looking up to meet his gaze. Her eyes were red and puffy, and the make up she had just fixed was running down her face again.
"Me?" he asked, feeling taken aback.
"I can't do it, Harry," she sobbed. "…I can't."
"What can't you do?" he slowly crept closer to her.
"That!" she said waving her hand in the direction of the couch. "And…this!" Her sobs grew stronger. "I just can't do it!"
Harry immediately knew she was referring to what occurred on his couch just hours ago. "Tell me, Hermione," he said.
She closed her eyes and allowed a few tears to leak out. "You're hurting me," she told him.
Harry was growing more concerned. "How am I hurting you?" he questioned.
Wiping her eyes, she looked up at him. "You are Harry Potter, savior of the world, destroyer of evil, and star Seeker of England. There is no way you could ever want me. I am plain and boring. You deserve somebody better, like one of your Quidditch fans…like that girl in the green dress. I am no good!"
"Oh, Mione…"
"And you - you made me feel something," Hermione said, as her eyes filled with more tears that poured over and down her cheek. "It has been so damn long since I felt something. Something good. You did that. And I'm scared!"
Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. How could she think something like that? "Oh, Hermione…" Harry said.
"Harry, I'm scared. Scared that you're going to hurt me," she said, looking into his eyes. More tears began to fall. "Harry…please don't hurt me!"
Without hesitation Harry pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed her temple. "Oh, Mione. There is no better girl than you. You're smart and beautiful. You know me better than anybody. I promise you, I would never do anything to hurt you." He pulled away to cup her face and look into her wet eyes. "You mean the world to me, Hermione. How could you not know that?"
"Harry, I just…"
"No, shhh it's okay," he told her. "We have been best friends for over eight years and you are SO important to me, you have no idea how much. I don't know what I would do if something happened to you." The thought of something preventing her from being in his life almost made him cry. He pulled her tight against him. "I don't regret what happened this afternoon, and frankly…I rather enjoyed it. I know it was unplanned and unexpected but I am glad it happened." His fingers ran through her brown curls. "Do you regret it?"
Harry thought if she said no then he would die, but fortunately she shook her head and looked up to meet his gaze again. "No, but it wasn't how I expected my first time to be," she said honestly.
Harry swallowed hard and brought his hand up to meet her rosy cheek. "I figured that much," he said. "I am sorry that it happened this way. I wish it could have been with somebody you…"
Hermione placed a finger against his lips to silence him. Her tears were now running dry. "Shhh," she said. "I am glad it was with you."
Harry smiled at her and pulled her into a big hug. Hermione clung to him desperately as if he might disappear with the blink of an eye. Harry smoothed back her hair and wiped away a few stray tears still lingering on her face. He leaned in and his lips brushed against hers which turned into a tender and gentle kiss, which Hermione seemed to enjoy. Harry didn't dare make the kiss forceful and try and turn it into something else, the last thing he wanted to do was frighten Hermione away by making her think all he wanted her for was sex. That was the last thing he wanted.
Listening to Harry tell her all these things that she had been dying to hear suddenly lifted her spirits. For a little while she could almost forget about her fear that she had failed in all she set out to do in life and her horrible public argument with her mother.
Hermione pulled away from the kiss. "Thank you."
"For what?" he asked feeling confused.
"Well for being honest with me," she told him. "But mostly for making me feel something. These past two years have been very difficult for me. And it's been so long since I have felt something. I was honestly beginning to wonder if I was still alive inside, thank you."
Once Hermione had fully calmed down and Harry's words had sunk in, Harry encouraged her off the floor and to join him on the couch. She was hesitant at first but he assured her that the only action that would be happening on the couch tonight was talking and eating ice cream.
So together they sat and drank tea and ate ice cream while Hermione talked to Harry about how she had been feeling for the past few years. She laughed, she cried but in the end she felt so much better to get all of her pain and suffering out in the open. Harry even confided in her that he had moments where he felt so consumed by the media and the post-war atmosphere that he just wanted to pack up and runaway. One time he did just that by packing a suitcase and apparated to Singapore where two hours later he came to his senses and apparated back home, where he spent the next two days pissed from Fire Whiskey.
Hermione chuckled when Harry tried to imitate the look Hedwig gave him when he apparated back from Singapore drunk and tried to feed her frozen olives instead of her owl treats, resulting in Hermione spilling melted ice cream all over her party dress.
"Shit!" Hermione screeched scrambling to her feet. The melting ice cream was now running down the length of the dress. "This is dry clean spell only. I can't fix this with a normal s…OHH IT'S COLD!" The ice cream had now dripped onto her leg and was slowly streaming its way down.
"Hold on a sec!" Harry shouted. He ran out of the living room and down the hall and returned a moment later with a towel and a scarlet red shirt which he thrust into Hermione's arms. "Here change into that, you can use the bathroom."
Hermione rushed off and emerged ten minutes later wearing Harry's old scarlet Gryffindor Seeker shirt with gold lettering that hung like a nightgown on her.
"Thanks for the shirt," Hermione said, smoothing it out over her hips. "I can't believe you still have this thing. It's from what sixth year?"
"No, seventh, it's my favorite shirt," he told her. He swallowed hard at the sight of her in his shirt. "So, did you save your dress?"
"Yeah, it's hanging up. I cast the dry clean only charm on it; it takes three hours to set in without being touched," Hermione explained. She reached beside Harry to grab her purse and tried to slip in a small item hoping Harry wouldn't notice, but unfortunately he did.
"What's that?"
"What's what?" she asked nonchalantly.
"That thing you're trying to hide from me in your purse," he said with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"There's nothing in my purse!"
Harry laughed and reached forward to grab the purse out of her hands.
"Harry, there's nothing…"
"A SPELL BOOK?" Harry laughed. "You carry a mini sized spell book with you where ever you go?'
"I'm a busy witch, and it comes handy!" Hermione said with her hands on her hips.
"Oh, how very Hermione of you," Harry joked.
"Shut up, Potter!" Hermione said, snatching her book back and falling next to him on the couch. She tucked it back into her purse then turned back to find him watching her.
"I'm sorry you had a horrible birthday," he said.
"I didn't, it turned out pretty good," she told him. "Thank you for making this one of the best birthday's I've had in a very long time."
They continued to talk well into the night and soon after Hermione's eyes grew heavy and she fell asleep. Harry watched her for a while. She looked so peaceful when she was asleep, like an angel. Harry knew she was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. When the clock struck midnight Harry scooped Hermione up in his arms, and her head fell limply against his shoulder. Harry smiled as she sighed contently and snuggled against him. He carried her down the hall and into his bedroom where he gently lay her down on his large bed. He brushed the hair away from her eyes and pulled the covers over her shoulder.
He leaned in close to her ear. He watched her for a moment before he kissed her head. "Goodnight, Hermione," he gently whispered in her ear. He turned to leave the room so he could spend the night sleeping on the couch.
***
Hermione awoke the next morning feeling like Harry had rekindled a new fire in her soul. She opened her eyes and found herself lying in the middle of a large comfortable bed. For a moment she wondered where she was then when all the Quidditch memorabilia registered in her mind she knew she was in Harry's bed. She automatically knew that Harry must have carried here in there last night, and he must have spent the night on the couch. The idea of wearing Harry's favorite shirt and sleeping in his bed sent wicked tingles down her spine and made her grin mischievously.
She threw the covers back and slipped her feet over the edge, letting them meet the cold floor. This was the first time in years in which Hermione could remember that she had woken up with a smile. She stood up and walked out of the bedroom and into the living room to find Harry. She expected to find him sitting in the living room, but when she got there it was empty. She looked around and saw a pillow and blanket on the couch, a pot was simmering on the stove, and Hedwig was watching her from her perch.
The sound of voices coming from the hallway caught her ear.
"Well?"
She edged closer to the door.
"It's a done deal."
"Wonderful!"
Wait, that's Harry's voice.
"Just make sure you give me what I want, this time. Last time we were so close!"
And that's…Mariah's voice!
"I know I know. I promise you'll get what you want this time, we're really up there," Hermione heard Harry say.
"Good," Mariah replied. "And I'll make sure we get rid of that stupid girl. She shouldn't…she doesn't even know what to do…must be horrible at it!"
Harry laughs. "Oh I know. Probably too well!"
Mariah chuckles.
"Hopefully she'll be gone by our big day. We don't want her screwing up anything more," Harry says. There is a long pause. "Thank you so much for this, I really appreciate it. I guess I'll see you Monday."
Hermione pulled the door open and stepped into the hallway to find Harry and Mariah, in a tight embrace. When Harry caught sight of Hermione he jumped back a few feet and swallowed hard.
Hermione's heart was breaking into a million little pieces.
"You're a liar!"
"Hermione…" Harry said walking towards her.
"All that stuff you told me last night…all a bloody lie!" Hermione yelled. "Now you're out here with her, talking about me!"
"Mione, let me…"
"No," she said backing away. "What's going on here, tell me the fucking truth!"
Harry stopped walking towards her, dropped his arms to his side, and sighed heavily. "You're right, Hermione, I am a liar, because I wasn't completely honest with you about Mariah." he said, with another heavy sigh. "Let's go inside we need to talk."
-->