A/N: I know I'm driving you all insane J , but I've got one more piece of angst to deliver before things sort out. So, hopefully you'll bare with me for a little longer. BTW, this chappie is Hermione's PoV.
Oh! And I'm going to use the lyrics of a song from the early 90's. Let's see if anybody can remember what song it is and who sings it.
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11. Getting Away
The following Tuesday, exactly a week after Harry had visited Hermione, someone rang her doorbell. Hermione came to the door wondering who it could be. A young woman in a trouser suit, with rimmed glasses and an elegant briefcase was at her doorstep.
"Mrs. Hermione Potter?" asked the woman in a very business-like tone.
Hermione's heart skipped a beat when she heard the woman calling her by that name. Not being able to speak, Hermione simply nodded. The woman immediately took out a big brown envelope out of her briefcase.
"I have this for you," she said extending the envelope out to Hermione. "They're divorce papers. You have two weeks to respond," the woman informed her.
Hermione's throat suddenly went dry. If she hadn't been able to articulate a word before, now it was even worst. She couldn't even swallow. All of a sudden, Hermione felt as if the floor beneath her had disappeared. She could feel a lump in her throat as her eyes got watery. She blinked rapidly not wanting to make a scene before the stranger and forced her mind to focus.
After Hermione finally grabbed hold of the envelope, the woman asked for her signature to confirm she had received the package. Without paying much attention to what she was doing, Hermione signed her name. Her hands were shaking, but she was able to do it. Immediately after that, the woman left.
Minutes later, Hermione was still rooted to the same spot, holding the envelope in her hands. She didn't even remember closing the door. Slowly, she walked to the kitchen and sat at the table, placing the envelope on it
Hermione stared at it for quite a while.
Her breathing was hard and deep. The lump in her throat had tightened and tears were threatening to fall from her eyes once again. Trying her best to avoid that, she closed her eyes tight.
"C'mon Hermione," she told herself. "We knew this was bound to happen sooner or later. In fact, you should've done it ages ago. I don't know what you were waiting for." She stood up and went to drink some water, hoping that would help her calm down.
"Of course!" she thought as she smacked her forehead. "Harry must know about Sally and Charles' divorce. That's why he wants this to be over. He wants to run after her without ties."
She walked back to the table and opened the envelope. "I can't blame him. I reckon I would've done the same thing." Taking the papers with her, she left the kitchen and walked to the second bedroom, which she had turned into a library / study.
Hermione went to the little wooden desk right next to the window. She grabbed her quill and dipped it into her inkwell. "After all," she thought. "There's nothing between us. This was all just a big lie."
Without reading the papers, she went straight to the last page were the signatures were required. She was just about to sign when she stopped. Her hand was sweating and her eyes stung.
"There's nothing there for you Hermione. No reason to fight. No reason to get in his way." Taking a deep breath, she signed the documents quickly and tossed them aside, trying to get them out of her sight.
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Later that day, Hermione called an old friend of her mother's. Mrs. Welsh owned a little, beautiful beach house in a small French town on the Mediterranean coast. Mrs. Welsh hand lent the house to the Grangers many times before. Hermione wanted to get away from everything and that seemed like the perfect place to go.
Two days later, Hermione arrived at the beach house. Wanting to be left alone, she had left without telling anybody where she was going, not even her parents. She didn't want to see anybody.
Ville D'Amato (Friendship Village) was a small town with a few scattered houses along the coastline and one main street with several small shops and a couple of cute cafés. The two-leveled beach houses were directly connected to shore, having the beach as their backyard.
Hermione had always loved being in this little town where people were so respectful of their neighbor's privacy, nobody ever interfered with the other's business. Being away from any big city or resort, the beach was deserted most of the time with the exception of the few people that lived there.
After her arrival, Hermione spent the first couple of days sitting in the balcony, looking out to sea, trying her best not to think about anything else but the beauty before her. It amazed her to see how there could be so much beauty in the world, yet so much hate at the same time.
The hours would go by slowly without her really noticing. On her third night at the beach house, Hermione finally vacated the wicker chair of the balcony. She felt tired, perhaps for the long hours she had been in the same stiff position. Trying to get some sleep, she went to bed.
As she laid in bed, her eyes wide open starting at the ceiling above, a name, one single name, came into her thoughts: Harry. She started wondering where he could be, if he had already run to Sally's side. What would the two of them may be doing right now?
Through the years, she had seen how some of her friends had been able to find love. She had witnessed the unexpected union of Ron and Luna, glad to see they were happy with each other. "If someone as extravagant as Luna was able to find someone who cared for her, why is it that I can't? Am I that hard to love?"
She got out of bed, trying to take those thoughts out of her head. They were doing her no good. She was slowly sinking into a depression and had no idea what to do about it. After a while, she headed back to bed.
Finally, the tiredness of her body drifted into a heavy sleep, but it tormented her even more. The events of the last weeks replay in her dreams.
Mixed images of Harry and Sally showed up. At times, Hermione would see Harry kissing her and suddenly he'd run away yelling Sally's name. In the nights that followed, similar dreams hunted her while sleeping.
Those dreams only made her cry and feel even worse. She was mad at herself for not being able to control her emotions. She was mad at herself for holding so tight to something impossible. But she felt even worse, because no matter what she'd do, her feelings for Harry were deeper and stronger than ever.
Then one night, Hermione woke up crying. It had been the worst dream she had had so far. In it, she had seen Harry not only telling her he had no feelings for her, but also yelling at her things like "How could you possible think that I would ever love you? You're nothing! You're not worth it!"
She had felt it so real, her hands were shaking.
Trying to calm down, she got out of bed and took a few steps away. She had to do something. She just couldn't continue like this or else she was going to go mental. Hermione sat on the edge of the bed trying to find a way out of the hole she had dug herself into.
Then, an idea came to her. She got up and walked to a small table placed right in the middle of the room. Right across it, there was the glass door that led to the balcony. Hermione sat at the table and grabbed a piece of paper.
She looked out the glass door, the curtains were rarely closed, and took in the beauty of the night. After a deep breath, she took a quill and inkwell out of a bag that rested on top of the table.
As the writer she was, she knew for fact that writing could work as a healing therapy. She just had never had the need for it before. Resolutely, she dipped the quill into the ink and started writing her thoughts.
I will survive… without you.
If you want to leave, I won't beg you to stay.
And if you have to go, maybe it's better that way.
I won't miss your arms around me… holding me tight.
And, if you ever think about me, just know that…
I'll be alright.
I'm going to be strong.
I'm going to be fine.
Don't worry about this heart of mine.
Just…
don't turn around because you're going to see my heart breaking.
I don't want you seeing me cry.
Just walk away.
It's tearing me apart that you're leaving…
But I won't let you know.
I wish I could scream out loud… that I love you…
I wish I could say to you… don't go…
Silent tears went down her face. Hermione stood up taking the piece of paper in her hands as well as her wand, which had been lying on the table, and walked out to the balcony. She slowly read the words she had just written as she let the night breeze dry the tears off her face.
With a firm hand, she pointed her wand to the paper and said "Incendio". Immediately, the paper burst into flames. Hermione watched as the fire consumed her words. A sense of freedom started to creep under her skin.
When the paper was reduced to ashes, Hermione cleaned her face with her hands. "This is the last time I cry for you, Harry," she said out to the night. Slowly, she walked to the edge of the balcony where a wooden staircase led to the beach below.
Hermione went down the stairs and walked to the beach. She kept walking until her toes touched the cool water. Without giving it much thought, she took her night gown, carelessly tossed it aside, and ran into the Mediterranean Sea for a swim under the full moon.
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After that night, things changed for the good.
Hermione's mood was still at a low pitch, but her disturbing dreams had stopped. She was more relaxed and at least felt resigned with her situation. She had pushed her feelings aside once before, she could very well do it again, right?
Hermione had been able to make peace with herself. She had decided to take this time away from home to wind down. She needed to rest her body as well as her mind.
The days slowly went by. Hermione quickly created some kind of daily routine. She would get up early and take a walk along the beach, barefoot. She loved the sensation of the sand between her toes. After that, she'd find a quiet, nice spot in the beach - something not difficult to do since the beach was mostly deserted. She'd throw a blanket in the sand and sit down with one of her favourite books.
After a few hours of reading under the hot sun, she'd go back to the beach house and take a long shower. Then, she would usually go to the little town and have a light lunch in a tiny café, which had outside sitting. She'd just sit there, enjoying her lunch, as she watched the town's people walking around, doing some errands or walking their dogs.
She loved that careless, relaxing way they seemed to spend their days.
In the afternoons, she'd try to do some writing, but nothing work related. She'd just write whatever nonsense came to her mind. She had already filled out a couple of notepads she had bought in town.
If her mind was not into writing, she'd just go out to the balcony and sit there for hours. Once the sun would begin to go down, she'd go back to the beach and admire the sunset from there. She would stay in the beach well into the night, though she hadn't gone skinny-dipping since that one day.
Almost two weeks after she had arrived to the little French town, Hermione realized that was the day when her divorce would be final. Since both parts had agreed to it, the process was to be smooth and quick. By the end of that day, she'd no longer be Hermione Potter.
She'd go back to being just plain old Hermione Granger.
Hermione sighed. She was sitting on the beach. She had spent most of the day in that same spot. The sun was slowly giving a red shade to the sea in its way down. Hermione had skipped his writing session of the afternoon. Her mind just wasn't in it.
As the day was drifting to end, she realized her so-called "marriage" to Harry was also reaching its end. "I reckon it never actually started. It was not meant to be," she thought.
The breeze started to pick up. Hermione hugged herself to protect her bare arms from the cool wind. But she remained rooted to the same spot, watching the sun disappear as the moon made an entrance.
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The following day, Hermione was sitting on her beach towel. She had gotten up earlier than usual that day. For some reason, she had had trouble sleeping the night before. Wanting to clear her mind, she went for her morning walk earlier. She also walked farther than before as she didn't feel ready to go back.
When she finally made her way back to the beach area just outside the house, she spread her towel in the sand. She rubbed some protective lotion on her body. Then, she laid back on the sand and took out of her beach bag her book. She laid down on her back and started reading.
After she had been reading for several hours, her eyes slowly began to close. The lack of sleep from the night before along with the warm rays of the midday sun were drifting her mind into a drowsy state. Leaving her book aside, Hermione put her sunglasses on and closed her eyes. It wouldn't hurt to take a nap.
She stayed like that for quite a while. Her mind, though not completely asleep, was in a state of deep relaxation.
Then, the warm sunrays that were bathing her body were suddenly blocked by something - or someone. In fact, her mind had perceived the sound of someone walking on the sand and stopping right next to her, but she was slowly processing that information.
Without moving, she opened her eyes. Yes. Someone was standing there looking down at her. She closed her eyes and opened them up again. The newcomer couldn't see that, however, due to her dark sunglasses she had on.
The bright light behind him made it hard for her to distinguish his features. Gradually, her mind began to wake up. Suddenly, every molecule in her body screamed out at her. She didn't need to see his face to recognize him. She could tell who it was just by his scent.
Hermione raised her hand and pulled her glasses out of her face.
"Harry, what are you doing here?"