Fury and Love

Disclaimer: We all know how this goes… It all came out of Jo’s brilliant mind, except the plot.

A/N: The main plot is actually based on the Mexican novel “Corazón Salvaje” (Wild Heart), written by Caridad Bravo Adams. Of course, I twisted it a bit to my liking.

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1. Friendly Letters

Harry,

How’s work going? I hope you’re not getting yourself into too much trouble. It was such a shame I couldn’t catch up with you last week as we had planned, but I know how unexpected the life of an Auror can be.

Since I didn’t see you that day, I thought I’d let you know about that important thing I wanted to talk to you in this letter. Harry, I’m madly in love… with a muggle. Yes, I know what you must be thinking, but I can’t help it. I love him. The problem, the one I need your advice on, is that he doesn’t know anything about my “special” qualities. I’m afraid to tell him.

Charles, which is his name by the way, comes from a very traditional, very old-fashioned family. I know you must be wondering what I’m doing with someone like him. Well, our families have known each other for years. Charles and I were childhood friends, but we had drifted apart, for reasons you’re well aware of.

It wasn’t until last year, at my grandparents fiftieth wedding anniversary that we saw each other again – I also was able to reunite with my favourite cousin - we used to be like sisters when we were little. There’s just one problem, though (Yes, another problem). He doesn’t know about my feelings. I reckon he might feel the same way. There’s something about the way he’s always treated me… Still I don’t want to be the one to make the first move. I guess I also have some old-fashioned ideas.

Well, I must go. Please reply to me sooner than last time, two months to send a reply seems like a long time to me.

Hope to see you soon.

Missing you lots,

Hermione

“A muggle?” thought Harry after reading the long letter he had just received from his best friend. They had seen so little of each other in the last two years, but they still liked to keep contact at least through letters. Harry’s job as an Auror left him little time to socialize.

“I reckon it makes sense. She grew up with muggles and has always been very close to them.” A small smile appeared on the face of the handsome 26-year old man. “Besides we’re in the same boat.”

At that time, Harry Potter was in his bedroom. He had inherited from his godfather the old Black house, which served as headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix during the Second War.

Eight years had passed since, during which Harry continued to fight against the dark forces. A year after he had defeated the Dark Lord, Alastor “Mad Eye” Moody welcomed him into the Auror’s force. Harry was very pleased with his job, but there was one thing he didn’t like: the little time he had to spend with his friends. Having to go on secret missions every so often, mostly out of the city or even out of the country, kept him quite busy.

This time, however, Harry decided he could spare a few minutes to write back to his best friend. Since Ron had moved to Egypt after marrying Luna more than two years ago (Ron was now working with his brother Bill for Gringgots Wizarding Bank), Harry had been left with Hermione as his closest best friend.

Harry walked towards the oak desk placed by the window to grab a piece of parchment and a quill. He moved aside the cup of tea Dobby had left for him before retrieving for the night.

A couple of days after Harry had settled in Grimmauld Place, Dobby appeared at his doorstep to offer his services. At first, Harry said no. He didn’t like the idea of having a house-elf, but then two things made him change his mind. The first one was the look of disappointment in Dobby’s face. The second one was realizing that he would indeed need some help to maintain such a big house.

He finally accepted Dobby’ services, but not before putting down a few conditions. First, Dobby was not to call him “master” (That word reminded Harry terribly of He-Who-You-Already-Know-Who). Dobby was also to get paid for his services and he’d be getting weekends off.

At first, Dobby didn’t know what to do with two whole days off. Until one day Harry suggested he could visit Winky at Hogwarts. Since then, Dobby spent all of his weekends at the castle.

After dipping his quill in the inkwell, Harry started to write his letter.

Dear Hermione,

That guy is very lucky to be loved by someone like you. I’m completely sure that he’ll fall head over heals for you, if he isn’t already. I think you should tell him about who you really are. If he really loves you, he shouldn’t mind. It’s not like you work with dark magic or anything like that!

As for him being a muggle, well I’ve got nothing more to say about it, other than… that makes two of us. Yes, I’ve also been seeing a muggle woman, for the last eight months. No, I haven’t told her anything either. I reckon I’m a bit afraid just like you. And I shouldn’t be really. She’s a very outgoing, open-minded person. I should tell her.

I know you must be wondering how I got involved with a muggle. Well, not that I’m supposed to say it, but sometimes I meet with our undercover contacts at muggle restaurants or cafés to avoid magic people. I met her at one of those places and we started seeing each other that same night. We’ve been together since. She doesn’t know about my job of course, but I’m seriously thinking about having a talk with her. I’ll let you know what happens.

Must go now, I’m heading to a special mission abroad - I'm not supposed to talk about this, you know. When I get back, I'll look you up so we can have lunch together.

Talk to you soon. I promise!

Harry

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Three months later, in mid June, Harry was back in London. He was very tired but satisfied with the outcome he and the team he led had achieved. This mission had taken longer than he had expected. Still, the mission wouldn't be completely over until the written report was sitting on Moody's desk.

That Saturday, after submitting his report Harry went to a muggle café for lunch. He enjoyed visiting places like this, not only when he was meeting one of his contacts but also when he just wanted to relax and enjoy his meal without someone asking to take pictures of him.

Even when the defeat of the Dark Lord had taken place many years ago, Harry Potter was still a celebrity in the wizarding world. And even when he had to endure it for so long, it was something that Harry would never get used to.

Harry sat down at a small table by the window. He was looking out at the people walking in the streets, but his thoughts were far away from the café, in a modern fifth-floor apartment at the other side of the city, where the love of his life lived.

Sally Mackenzie was everything Harry could ask for. She was a gorgeous blonde, with shiny hair and blue eyes. She was smart, outgoing, and a very passionate lover. Harry had spent the night at her apartment the same day they met.

The attraction had been mutual. Sally had been eyeing him and smiling at him during the half hour that he was there. It came to him as no surprise when she approached him. Since that night, Harry had spent many nights at her apartment. Harry was beginning to think about taking things to the next level.

Besides presenting his report, Harry had also asked Moody for a couple of months off. He wanted to tell Sally everything about him, his job and the wizarding world. He wanted to propose and was sure Sally would accept to marry him as soon as the arrangements could be done. That way he’d be able to spend some quality time with her and maybe even take a little trip somewhere relaxing.

Harry was only taken out of his thoughts when his lunch arrived. Then, he also noticed a muggle newspaper someone had left on the chair next to him. From time to time, Harry liked to read the muggle paper, something most magic people didn’t give much regard to, in order to keep an eye out for things muggles wouldn’t pay much attention to or wouldn‘t recognize for what they really were.

As Harry was eating his lunch, he started reading through the pages. Then a picture announcing an engagement caught his attention. Harry looked back at the picture and read the caption underneath.

“After announcing their engagement three months ago, Mr. Charles Kensington and Ms. Sally Mackenzie shall be joining their lives in holy matrimony tomorrow at the Kensington’s estate.”

Harry had to read the caption a few times before his mind could process it. It was her. There was no mistake. The picture of the happy couple was clear enough. It was Sally. His Sally was getting married to another guy tomorrow.

Then, Harry looked quickly at the date on the paper. It was yesterday’s paper, which meant she’d be getting married on that day. To make matters worse, the paper didn’t specify where exactly the wedding would be taking place.

Without finishing his lunch, Harry headed back to the Ministry. In previous occasions, he had been able to locate a person’s whereabouts with less information than that. He was determined to find the place where the person he had hoped would marry him was going to marry someone else.

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Hermione looked at her image in the ladies room. She was wearing a crimson, strapless long nightdress that gently pronounced her curves. Little was left of that bushy haired, thin, girl that once cried after being called a nightmare by a certain redhead boy. She had turned into an attractive woman with shiny curly brown hair, which she had finally learned how to tame.

That day, her hair had been professionally tied in an elegant bun at the back of her head, with some loose curls framing her face, her make-up light and natural. Her appearance was perfect, but her eyes looked sad.

She had been chosen to be the maid of honor at her cousin’s wedding. Hermione and her cousin had been very close during their childhood. Both their mothers were sisters. When Hermione and her cousin were kids, they had had the same connection as their mothers, but Hermione didn’t feel that way anymore.

Hermione and her cousin hadn't seen each other for a long time. First, during Hermione's years at Hogwarts she hadn't been that close to her relatives. Then, her cousin moved to Italy for a few years. It wasn't until last year when the two of them had reunited at their grandparents’ anniversary. Since that day, the two women continued their friendship as if no time had passed.

Hermione found in her cousin the female best friend she’d always lacked. There were things she just could not say to Harry, her other best friend. Having her cousin back in her life had been great for Hermione. She had confided in her cousin her two secrets: Hermione's magic abilities and her secret love.

Both women lived in London. Hermione had signed a contract with Flourish and Blott’s to edit and write new textbooks of spells and charms. She loved her job, especially the fact that she could work from home and make her own schedule. Her cousin worked in a muggle advertising firm.

They had been seeing each other regularly during the last year. Everything had gone great until the day Hermione received some very surprising news from her cousin. She was getting married. What was surprising about it was the fact that Sally, Hermione’s cousin, was getting married to none other than the man Hermione was in love with.

To Hermione, it had been a shock to learn that even when Sally knew about Hermione’s feelings for Charles, she had started dating him. “You never made a move,” Sally had said, but to Hermione that was not an excuse.

Sally had not been honest with Hermione. She never told Hermione anything about Charles until the day they announced their engagement; an announcement Sally purposely made at a family dinner with both their parents present. Sally knew Hermione wouldn't make a scene in front of them.

If she had the choice, Hermione wouldn’t have come to the wedding. But she couldn’t tell her mother or her aunt why she didn’t want to attend. She had even been forced, so to speak, to be the maid of honor. Sally had asked her when both their mothers were present. Sally’s mother suffered of a heart condition. The seriousness of her illness was such that she had been near death a couple of times. Sally knew how to make use of that to her benefit.

Inevitably, Hermione had no other option but to accept. So, there she was trying to hide in the bathroom. The ceremony had finished a couple of hours ago. She had hardly survived through it, but she was not willing to spend the rest of the evening looking at the happy newlyweds. Witnessing the man she loved get married to someone else had been difficult. More difficult was to hide her feelings and put on a smile.

Still, she couldn’t hide in the restroom all night. Trying to stay as far away from the hall where the reception was taking place as she could, Hermione went outside to the gardens. They were in the Kensington’s Family estate in north Britain. The Kensington family was very wealthy, influential and respected.

Their mansion, made out of three levels, was decorated with elegance. It almost looked like a museum, not only because the mansion itself dated from the early eighteen hundreds but also due to all the antiques and valuable paintings in the spacious rooms. There was a small guesthouse in the back garden. All of the bride and groom’s closest family members were staying at the Kensington place.

The wedding reception was taking place in the first floor. The opulent hall, where all of their family members and friends, along with three hundred more guests, celebrated the happy union drinking expensive French champagne, was elegantly decorated with antique Louis XVI furniture, crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings, silk white table cloths on every table with floral arrangements that had been brought from abroad especially for the occasion. The wedding of the Kensington’s heir was the social event of the year.

Hermione walked along the stone path hoping she could get away. She still had to stay there two more days. The groom’s family had this tradition where the day after the wedding the family and the closest friends would have a luncheon. At that time the newlyweds would present thank you gifts to the bridesmaids, their escorts, the flower girl and the ring bearer. For that reason, the happy couple was to leave for their honeymoon two days after the wedding day.

Hermione had been walking for a while, lost in her thoughts, when she heard a very familiar popping sound coming from behind a tree. She was almost sure someone had just apparated nearby. At first she thought that couldn’t be right. “Who would be apparating here?” she thought. Just then a familiar figure came into view.

“Harry! What are you doing here?”

A/N: I just want to say Thanks to my wonderful beta. She’s great!! Also, BIG Thanks to those who read and take a few extra minutes to review. J

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2. Betrayals

“Harry! What are you doing here?”

Loads of wild ideas came up in Hermione’s mind. What was Harry doing there? Was he in one of his Auror missions? Was he looking for some dark wizard among the wedding’s guests? Instinctively, Hermione touched her wand, which she had disguised as a hairpin, ready to grab it if needed.

Not only Harry’s unexpected presence was surprising. The expression on his face made Hermione feel uneasy as well. She had only seen him like this in a couple of occasions before, during the Second War, and that alone put her on edge.

Harry, who also seemed surprised to find Hermione there, finally walked up to her and spoke.

“Hermione!” Harry looked around checking the surrounding area. “Why are you here?” he asked looking back at her.

“What do you mean? I’m… I’m here for my cousin’s wedding,” replied Hermione, confused by Harry’s question.

“Your cousin?” asked Harry getting closer to her, a tone of urgency in his voice.

“Yes. Sally, my cousin,” replied Hermione. She was feeling very anxious and Harry was not helping her much.

“Your cousin! She’s your cousin!” Harry laughed in a way Hermione had never heard from him. It dripped with sarcasm. Harry started pacing around, resembling a lion trapped in his cage. His hands were shaking.

Hermione looked at him wondering why he was in such state. “Harry, you want to tell me what’s happening?”

Then, Harry turned towards at her. His hands were not shaking anymore. He looked determined, resolved. “I must stop that wedding.”

“What?” Hermione could not understand what was happening. “Are you insane? Besides the ceremony ended more than two hours ago.”

Harry, who had started to walk towards the mansion, stopped on his tracks. He quickly turned to Hermione and grabbed her by the arms, not caring about the pain he was causing her. “What?! What did you just say?”

“The wedding’s over,” she repeated. She pulled herself away from him. For a few seconds, Harry didn’t seem to notice that. His fists were still tight as if he were still holding her. Harry’s eyes shined in a very peculiar way. Then an idea came to Hermione’s mind.

“Do you know Sally?” she asked in a barely audible voice.

Harry looked at her. Once again, that sarcastic laugh came out of him. “I know her. I know her very well, or at least I thought I did.”

“Harry…” Hermione extended her hand, trying to touch him, but he avoided her contact.

“Yes, Hermione. She’s the one… the one I told you about. The one I’ve been seeing for the last eight months. The one I was going to ask to marry me.” More than speak, Harry had yelled out those last words. Hermione could now understand the look of anger in his face. She could very easily understand what he was going through.

Again, she made an effort to get close to him, but once more he avoided her contact, not wanting to be touched, not wanting his anger to be soothed.

“She’s been playing with me, Hermione, and she’s going to pay for that.” Harry headed to the mansion. He was not thinking clearly. He didn’t want to do it. All he wanted was to hurt Sally, to hurt her as much as she was hurting him.

Guessing what Harry wanted to do, Hermione quickly stood in his way, trying to keep him away from the mansion. She wasn’t going to let him do something he’d regret later. Plus, she knew her Aunt’s heart wouldn’t resist it if Harry were to make a scandal at her dear daughter’s wedding reception.

“Harry, no! I can’t let you do that.” She was trying to hold to him, but his strength was greater than hers.

“You don’t understand. She’s a liar. We’ve been seeing each other.” Harry thought Hermione did not understand his situation. “Just two weeks ago, we were together. I was in her bed!”

But Hermione understood very well. She didn’t have a doubt in her mind. If Sally had betrayed Hermione’s trust, she could very well have done the same thing to anybody else. Still, she had to keep Harry from making a scene. She couldn’t let that happen.

Making use of strength she didn’t know she had, Hermione grabbed one of Harry’s arms and pulled him away from the mansion and behind a tree.

“Harry, listen to me. I understand. I know what you’re going through.” She tried to look into his eyes to calm him down with her words, but he wouldn’t look at her. He didn’t want her to influence him.

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes. I do. I do because you’re not he only one she betrayed,” she said, pain showing in her voice.

Even without him wanting to, he was curious to hear what she had to say. “Who else did she betray?” he demanded.

Hermione took a deep breath, finally letting go of Harry’s arm. “Me,” she simply said.

Harry had not expected this. He then looked into her eyes. Harry knew Hermione very well. He could tell when she was lying, when she was hiding something. He could also tell when she was sad, when she had been crying. He realized she was saying the truth and not just making something up to calm his fury.

With a sudden change in his voice, he asked, “What did she do?”

Hermione turned away, her back towards Harry. “She just married Charles.”

It finally dawned on his mind. Hermione had mentioned him in her last letter. She had been in love with this guy and now he was her cousin’s husband. Who would’ve thought?

Harry shook his head in disbelief. “How could this possibly be?” he thought. Then he started laughing. Hermione, surprised by his reaction, turned to face him.

“How ironic! Oh, this is amusing,” he said looking at her. “Well, now more than ever I’m going to enjoy ripping her to pieces.” The concern had faded from his voice, replaced by the sarcastic tone he had been using before.

“No. I’m not going to let you do that,” she said to him. Amazingly, her voice came up sounding firm and strong. Something she was far from feeling.

Harry’s expression changed from mocking to shocked. “How can you still defend her?” he said in a calmer voice, getting close to her. “How can you…”

“Herms, honey! We’ve been looking all over for you.” A handsome blond man arrived. He was elegantly dressed with a black tailcoat. His gray eyes looked intently at Harry. “Herms dear, aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Harry didn’t need an introduction. Judging by Hermione’s reaction to his arrival, he knew perfectly well who this man was.

“Of course,” responded Hermione trying to sound as her normal self. “Charles this is my good friend Harry Potter.”

“Potter! At last, I’ve heard so much about you. Herms speaks very highly of you.”

Reluctantly, Harry shook the hand Charles stretched out, tightening his grip a little more than socially appropriate.

“Why didn’t you tell me he’d be joining us dear?” asked Charles, retrieving his hand from Harry’s.

“I… I didn’t know… he’d be able to make it,” responded Hermione. Fortunately, the fact that Harry was her friend was the perfect excuse for his presence there.

“No matter.” Then, turning towards Harry, Charles added, “You’re more than welcome to stay. Herms' friends are my friends. We’ll make arrangements for you to stay here so you can join us tomorrow at the luncheon.”

As Charles was speaking, he placed a hand in Harry’s shoulders while beckoning him towards the mansion. Even just feeling Charles’ hand on him was not pleasant for Harry – he deeply wished his skin could burn him just like it once had burned Quirrell's a long time ago – but he still walked with him.

Hermione quickly tried to make them stop, but Charles was already leading Harry ahead. Praying to Merlin Harry wouldn’t do or say anything stupid, Hermione followed them closely into the mansion and towards the big hall. Charles led the way to the place where his lovely wife was talking to some friends.

“Potter, let me introduce you to my wife,” he said to Harry. Sally turned around to face them. As soon as she saw Harry standing right there next to Charles, her face showed her surprise. But she couldn’t say a word. Right after that, she lost consciousness and fell to the ground.

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Sally slowly opened her eyes looking at the worried faces surrounding her, but she quickly closed them again. After she fainted, her husband had brought her into this room, adjacent to the hall where the reception was taking place, and deposited her unconscious body on a fluffy burgundy couch.

“She’s waking up!” Sally heard someone’s voice close to her. She finally opened her eyes once more to find that the person next to her was her mother. Hermione, Charles and his mother were also in the room.

With a concerned look in his face, Charles kneeled down next to the couch. “Are you okay sweetheart?” Then looking at his mother, he added, “Perhaps we should call a doctor. She looks too pale.”

“No!” Sally’s voice was heard as she made an effort to get up. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t get up yet, sweetie.”

“I’m okay mother.” Sally pushed away her mother’s hands as she finally got up.

Charles looked inquisitively into his wife’s eyes. “Are you sure sweetheart? Should I get you some water?”

“Yes! Yes, please do so,” said Sally quickly. Then almost pushing her mother out of the room, she asked them to leave her alone with Hermione.

As soon as they walked out, Sally closed the door behind them and turned urgently to Hermione. “I need your help,” she said while trying to hold Hermione’s hand. Hermione, however, took a step back avoiding her contact, just as Harry had avoided her a few minutes ago.

“I know everything Sally. You can’t fool me now.” Hermione’s voice was cold. She stood looking at her cousin, her arms crossed across her chest.

“What do you mean?”

“Harry told me everything. I know about you two,” said Hermione as she looked right into her cousin’s eyes.

Sally’s knees shook. To avoid falling once more, she sat in the couch where she had been lying. She seemed to be having a struggle inside her head, trying to figure out how to get out of that tight situation.

“You… you know Harry?”

“Yes. I know him,” responded Hermione. She walked a couple of steps away from her cousin and looked out the window that led to the gardens. “He’s the friend I’ve told you about.”

A tiny ray of hope began to fill Sally’s mind. “He’s your friend! So you can talk to him.” Sally got up, regaining control of herself, and walked towards Hermione. She grabbed Hermione’s elbow to make her turn towards her. “He has to leave. I don’t want him talking to Charles.”

“They already talked.” Hermione could’ve laughed at the expression of fear that for a few seconds appeared in the beautiful face of her cousin. She enjoyed making Sally suffer, at least for a little while.

“They did!” Then Sally grabbed Hermione firmly by the upper arms and began shaking her. “What did he say to Charles? What did he do?”

After being able to free herself from those hands that held her as hooks, Hermione walked away from Sally. “Nothing! He didn’t say anything, but he’s very upset Sally. I don’t know how long he’ll be able to control himself.”

“Then make him, you can do something… you know, with your magic stuff. Whatever it takes but keep him quiet, and take him away from here.”

“Why should I help you?” Hermione couldn’t believe Sally’s attitude. She was in no position to make demands. “You got yourself into this mess. Jeez, Sally you were seeing the two of them at the same time. How could you play with their feelings like that? You thought they’d never find out?”

Sally rolled her eyes as she let out a gasp of exasperation. She hated to hear Hermione’s lectures, but she was in a position where she had no one else to go to. Realizing it wasn’t going to be easy to get Hermione‘s help, Sally changed her tone.

“Only you can help me,” said Sally as she got closer to Hermione. “You know how sick Mum’s been lately. I don’t want her to get upset. I would never forgive myself if…”

“Alright! Alright. But don’t let your hopes get too high. I already talked to him, and I’m not sure I convinced him to keep quiet.” Taking a few steps towards the window, Hermione added, “I’ll talk to him, but I’m only doing this for Aunt Betty.”

A/N: Just in case you’re wondering about the rating, I had to make it NC17 due to a scene in a later chapter. Stay tuned!

3. The Note

But Hermione couldn’t talk to Harry. To her surprise Harry and Charles were talking for a long time. She wasn’t sure whether to feel good or bad about that. Harry’s attitude hadn’t changed much. She could still see that weird, sarcastic smile on his face.

Finally, to Hermione’s relief the reception ended. Everybody left with the exception of the relatives that were staying in the mansion. Hermione, her parents and her Aunt Betty were staying in the guest rooms on the east wing’s second floor. Charles had found a place for Harry in the little guesthouse in the garden.

Before retiring with her husband to the suite her mother-in-law had prepared for her and Charles, Sally took a quick trip to the gardens. Charles was talking to one of his uncles and she wasted no time in leaving the mansion. She wanted to find the opportunity to talk to Harry.

As if they had agreed on it, she found Harry leaning on a tree in a very isolated place, great for a private talk. Harry saw her before she reached him, but didn’t move until she was a couple of steps away.

“Shouldn’t you be enjoying your wedding night?” asked Harry with a sarcastic tone.

For a few minutes Sally didn’t say a word as if she were practicing a little speech in her mind. Finally, she walked closer to Harry and placed one of her soft hands in his arm, gently stroking it.

“I know you’re upset.” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. “But it wasn’t my fault. I wanted to tell you so many times…”

“Did you? Then how is it that I found out about it from the paper?” Harry hadn’t moved a muscle. He could feel Sally’s warm hand on his arm and was trying to ignore the sensation her touch made him feel.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” said Harry while pointing with his hands at the big mansion. “The name, the money, the luxury…”

“No!” responded Sally quickly now placing both her hands on Harry. “I didn’t, my mother was the one that….”

“Please, don’t give my that shit.” Harry finally pulled away from her, taking a step back, but Sally quickly moved after him.

“It’s true, she pushed me to Charles. She convinced me to marry him,” said Sally, speaking in an urgent voice.

“And she didn’t have any trouble convincing you, did she?”

“Harry, please. Don’t hate me. If you want to insult me, go ahead. Do it! Release all your anger on me. I don’t care as along as you don’t throw me away from you.” She was trying to use all of her seduction power to convince him to keep quiet.

“What?”

“I love you Harry, you know that,” she said passing a hand through his hair.

Harry could not believe what he was hearing. He took a couple of steps away trying to calm down. Sally waited for a while. Then, she walked up to him placing both her arms around Harry’s neck.

“How can you expect me to believe that?” asked Harry while trying to get her arms off of him, but Sally resisted.

“I never lied when I said I loved you.” Sally tried to kiss him, but Harry pulled her away.

“Then, why did you marry him?” he asked looking into her eyes, trying to find the truth.

“It’s just that… I, uh”

“Okay, forget him! You say you love me, right? Let’s go then. Let’s get out of here right now.” Harry could not believe he was saying that, but he wanted to confirm whether she did in fact love him as she said.

“What!? Leave? But, I…”

Again, a sarcastic smile spread in Harry’s face. “I figured. You don’t want to leave him, do you? You don’t want to lose what you’ve already gained.”

Sally looked away and didn’t respond. Harry saw her for what she really was, a selfish, spoiled and materialistic woman. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen that before. Still, he felt hurt. She had played with his feelings in a cruel way.

Harry wanted to make her suffer too. If his proposition of running away scared her that much, then he’ll insist on it just to see the look of fear on her face.

“Let’s go Sally. Forget about Charles and come with me.” He grabbed her by the elbow and tried to pull her. Just then, some voices sounded not far from them. Sally quickly pulled away from Harry’s grip.

“I have to go! Please Harry, don’t do anything foolish,” said Sally in a whisper while starting to walk away.

“We’re not done talking,” added Harry just before she turned and ran towards the mansion.

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Hermione got up at the crack of dawn. She hadn’t been able to sleep. Harry’s presence in the mansion made her fear for the worse. She knew how upset he was about Sally’s marriage. She had felt the same anger a couple of months ago, but she had also been forced to move her feelings aside.

Trying to see if she could talk to Harry, Hermione walked out toward the guesthouse. She didn’t want to knock and wake the other guests, so she sat on a stone bench outside the house.

She had only been sitting there for ten minutes when Harry came out. Hermione was glad to see that he looked more relaxed than the previous day. “Perhaps now he’ll be willing to go,” she thought.

Harry walked up to her and sat down, straddling his legs around the bench.

“I saw you from the window,” said Harry. “I was expecting you.”

“You were?” asked Hermione trying to read the expression on his face, but she couldn’t. Not only because she couldn’t tell what was going on through his mind, but also because he kept avoiding her eyes.

“You’re gonna ask me to leave.” There was no sign of emotion in Harry’s voice. Still, Hermione could see this was not the Harry she knew. He sounded different, distant.

Harry had guessed she wanted him to leave. That was the reason she had come to see him. Hermione thought for a while how to approach him. She certainly didn’t want to light up his fury again.

“There’s no reason for you to stay here,” she said in a soft voice, trying to keep things calm.

“Why do you defend her?” This time it was Hermione the one avoiding Harry’s eyes. “Why do you want to make things easy for her after what she did to you? Or is it… Are you trying to protect Charles? Is that why you want me to go? To keep him from knowing he married a slag.”

“No… I, uh…”

“Why deny it, Hermione? You think I don’t know you. You’re not worried about her. You’re only worried about your precious Charles. You don’t even care about me.”

Once again, Harry’s temper had exploded. He had yelled at Hermione without caring about whether his words were hurting her or not. Even when he had seemed calm, his anger had not gone away.

He wanted everybody to know how hurt and upset he was. He also felt angry with Hermione. Her cold attitude to the whole situation, when she had also been affected by it, made him even more furious. He did not understand how she could remain calm and indifferent.

Hermione stood up. She wasn’t there to be yelled at. She was just trying to make the situation more bearable for everyone, but she wasn’t going to take Harry’s anger.

“You know what?” she said. “I don’t care what you do. I don’t care what happens anymore. If you want to run through the house yelling to the top of your lungs that she betrayed you, go ahead. I’m not going to stop you.”

Before Harry could say anything else, she left.

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All morning, everyone in the mansion had been busy getting everything ready for the luncheon, the last festivity to celebrate the happy union.

Harry had wondered around trying to find a moment to talk to Sally, but she hadn’t been alone all morning. Harry suspected she was purposely avoiding being alone so that he couldn’t get close to her.

At noon, everyone gathered at the side gardens, which were decorated with a beautiful fountain, for the luncheon. A big white canopy was put up. Under its shade, several round tables were placed, though not nearly as many as during the reception, but enough to accommodate about fifty people.

Harry was sitting at Hermione’s table, mainly because he wouldn’t have felt comfortable anywhere else, but he remained silent most of the time and talked to Hermione only when it was necessary.

Hermione’s parents and Sally’s mum were also at the same table. Mr. and Mrs. Granger had been pleasantly surprised to see Harry. They hold their daughter’s friend in high esteem.

After everyone had enjoyed the fabulous buffet, the newlyweds presented some thank you gifts to their bridesmaids, the flower girl, the ring bearer, the best man, and a couple of other people that had helped to organize the wedding.

When Sally asked for Hermione to come and collect her present, Hermione remained seated for a few seconds.

“Come on sweetie, Sally’s calling you,” pressed her Aunt. Hermione took a quick look to Harry only to find his sarcastic smile. Finally, she stood up and walked to the place where Charles and Sally were waiting for her.

Sally resembled the image of the happy bride who just married the love of her life. Nobody could’ve guessed what was going on between the two cousins.

“I just want everyone to know that without Hermione’s love and support, I wouldn’t have been able to make it through,” said Sally to everyone. “She’s the sister I never had.” Right after that, she hugged Hermione and gave her a tiny black box containing a set of diamond earrings.

Charles also hugged Hermione and thanked her for being such a good friend. Harry, whose ironic grin hadn’t disappeared from his face, watched the whole scene closely.

About an hour later, the group started to dissolve. Some of the couple’s relatives were starting to get ready to leave. Hermione’s parents were among them. They were supposed to attend a conference. Instead of going back to London, they’d be heading to Sweden, where the conference was to take place.

Hermione was to leave the next morning and return to London by train. Aunt Betty had asked if she could come along with Hermione. She hated to travel alone.

The moment Harry had been waiting for all morning finally arrived. Sally was still in the gardens, but she was alone and far enough away to be out of anybody’s hearing range. He walked up to her. Sally froze as soon as she saw him coming.

“May I congratulate the bride?” asked Harry, mock on his voice.

“Sure,” said Sally standing up.

Harry gave her a socially acceptable hug and extended his hand to shake hers. Sally shook it.

“I hope you’ll be really happy.” Then getting a little close to her, he added in a whisper, “I’ll make sure of that.”

He then let go of her hand. At that time she realized Harry had left a note in her hand, but before she could say anything to him, he was gone.

“Sally!” called Sally’s mum. “Come say good bye to your aunt and uncle.” Sally quickly hid the note inside her clothes.

-----------------------------------------

It wasn’t until almost one hour later that Sally got a chance to read Harry’s note. She was in her private bathroom, the only place where she was left alone. With trembling hands, she took the piece of paper and read it.

We’re leaving tonight. I’ll be waiting for you at midnight by the garden shed.

Don’t make me wait. If you don’t come, I’ll go and find you.

I’m not leaving without you!

Harry

Sally’s hands started sweating. “He must be insane,” she thought. “I can’t have this. I’m not going to let this idiot ruin what I’ve worked so hard for.” The hand that was holding the note tightened, to then drop it to the floor.

Sally immediately walked out of the room and decided to go look for Harry. She wanted to talk to him and make him see that she wasn’t going to do things his way. Without stopping, Sally went straight to the guesthouse.

Harry, however, was not there. Feeling frustrated, Sally started looking for him in the gardens. After Sally had been looking for fifteen minutes, she saw one of the guards and asked him for Harry. The guard told Sally Harry had left more than an hour ago.

“Are you sure it was him?” asked Sally not believing that Harry had left that easily.

“Yes Miss, I saw him walking out to the road. He hasn’t come back since.”

------------------------------------

Hermione was in the room she had been assigned to, which she had shared with Erica Seaver, a friend of Sally that had also been a bridesmaid. Erica was gone by now. Suddenly the door burst open and Sally came into the room.

“So, is it true?” demanded to know Sally.

“What’s true?”

“Is it true that Harry left?” asked Sally coming to where Hermione was standing. “Did he say anything to you?”

Hermione looked surprised. “Well, he didn’t talk to me, but how do you know he left?” She had hoped all day that Harry would finally come to his senses and leave. Hermione was glad to hear he had finally done so.

“One of the guards told me. He said he saw Harry walking out.” Then a thought came to Sally’s head. “You think he just went for a walk? He went walking! How far can he get walking?”

Hermione smiled. Sally had obviously no idea how far you could get with magic. “That’s no problem for him.”

“What do you mean?” asked Sally. Then realization came to her. “Oh! He’s… he’s like you, isn’t he?”

Hermione sat down in the edge of the bed, not responding to Sally’s question. “I’m glad he left. I was afraid he might do something stupid.”

Sally was very glad too, but she still felt a little anxious. She just couldn’t accept that Harry would’ve left like that, especially after the note. Sally knew she wasn’t going to relax until she and Charles would be in their way to their honeymoon, which wasn’t until the next day.

4. One More Lie

It was past ten o’clock when Harry got back to the Kensington place. He had walked out of the mansion earlier than afternoon. After he was far enough from any curious eyes, he had apparated to the nearest town where he rented a small car.

He sure was glad that as part of his Auror training, he had had to learn how to drive and get a muggle driver’s license. He needed the car to take Sally away. He couldn’t apparate her.

It had taken him longer than expected to get the car and drive back. Once there, Harry hid the car as close as he could to the main entrance's gate. He then prepared himself for whatever could happen that night.

---------------------------------------

There were still a few visitors in the mansion. After dinner, the newlyweds and those still there moved to one of the living rooms for coffee. Hermione not feeling very sociable, went into her room instead.

Sally looked at her wristwatch. It was 11:45 p.m. As the night advanced, she felt more relaxed. Harry hadn’t given signs of life all afternoon. She thought of herself a lucky woman. Wanting to get some fresh air, she went to the open window.

Even thought it was dark outside, she distinguished a figure not far leaning on a tree. That someone was awfully familiar. Then, her senses told her it was Harry. Her mouth went dry all of a sudden. Her wands started shaking and her face turned into an expression of shock. He was there, waiting for her.

Harry, who had seen her come to the window, waved a hand at her. He could almost see her tremble.

A thought quickly came to Sally’s mind: Hermione. Without saying a word to anyone, she left the room and ran upstairs towards Hermione’s room. When she got there, she opened the door, not wasting time knocking.

“He’s here! He’s here, you gotta help me!” said Sally. She walked all the way to the armchair where Hermione was sitting, reading a book. Sally grabbed her by the shoulders and started shaking her.

“He’s waiting! He wants me to go with him.” Sally looked scared and her voice was shrilly. “I can’t do it Hermione. You have to help me.”

“What are you talking about?” Trying to free herself from Sally’s strong grip, Hermione pulled her cousin away.

“Harry, he’s here!”

“Didn’t you say he left?” asked Hermione getting up.

Finally, Sally let go of Hermione and started pacing around the room. “That’s what the guard told me, but I just saw him outside, waiting for me.”

“Waiting for you?” asked Hermione, trying to understand why Sally was so anxious.

“Yes! He sent me a note saying he wanted to take me with him, tonight!” Then again, Sally went to Hermione trying to make her see the seriousness of the situation.

“He’s insane!” said Sally, taking Hermione’s hands in hers. “He said if I don’t go, he’s going to come looking for me.”

Hermione pushed Sally down to make her sit on the bed. “He's not going to do anything like that.” That just wasn't like Harry. Hermione could not imagine him trying to take Sally away by force.

“He is! I know he is. You have to talk to him Hermione.” Sally stood up. The emotions she was feeling didn’t let her stay still. “Tell him… tell him that I’ll leave with him, but not now, not today.”

“Are you mental?” Hermione could not understand why Sally liked to complicate her own life like this.

“Just make him believe that. I’ll talk to him tomorrow. I reckon I can convince him to go away quietly.” Sally started crackling her knuckles, trying to find a way to convince Hermione. She still wanted to keep seeing Harry, but she wanted to do things her way. She hated being pressured.

“Forget it! I’m not going to lie to him, and you shouldn’t give him false promises either.” Hermione couldn’t believe how things had gotten so out of hand. Most of all, she hated being in the middle of it. She wished she could just leave and let Sally fix her own problems.

As if Sally could guess Hermione’s thoughts, she quickly changed her attitude to portray the victim’s role.

“Please, Hermione. You’re the only one who can help me. I didn’t want things to get this far. I… I don’t want mum to hear about any of this. I don’t think her poor heart could take it…”

Hermione had no choice but to accept. Reluctantly, she left the room to go find Harry.

-------------------------------------------

Charles had married Sally crazy in love. Yes, he knew that sometimes she behaved like a spoiled little girl, but he loved even that. He wanted to be the one who would make all of her wishes come true. He loved Sally's personality, so full of energy, always the life of the party, but for some reason her mood had seemed to change since the weeding.

He had noticed something weird happened to Sally that evening. He saw her running upstairs with an expression of shock after talking a look outside. Thinking that perhaps she saw something that upset her, Charles walked to the window.

After searching the garden with his eyes for a while, he noticed Harry in the same spot Sally had seen him. Charles recognized him.

“That’s odd,” he thought.

He then excused himself with his guests and went upstairs to look for Sally. Charles assumed Sally had gone to their bedroom, so he headed in that direction. He entered the room to find it empty.

“Perhaps she’s in the bathroom.”

With that thought in mind, he walked to the bathroom’s door. He knocked, but there was no answer. To confirm she wasn’t there, Charles opened the door and walked in. Then, he noticed something, a wrinkled piece of paper that had been carelessly thrown to the floor.

Charles picked the paper up and read the note Harry had left in Sally’s hand earlier that day. He read it twice trying to digest those words. Instantly, a feeling of rage took him over.

“What’s this? Harry… this note was for Sally?” Charles was desperately trying to make sense of it. He then recalled Sally’s sudden faint when he had introduced her to Harry, her nervousness, her look of surprise.

“Could it be? Harry and… Harry and Sally!” Out of fury, his hands started to tremble. He could not believe it. There was something going on between them, between his wife and Hermione’s friend.

“And I welcomed him into my house!” said Charles, talking to himself. “They must have laughed at me. Those two…” His breath was coming out in short gasps. He was so upset.

“He probably isn’t even Hermione’s friend. Maybe they just said that, but… I don’t think Hermione would be part of this, would she?”

Feeling that he needed to clarify this whole thing, Charles left the room and went looking for his wife.

------------------------------------------

Hermione went to the garden’s shed. Sally told her that was the spot where Harry would be waiting for her. It was already midnight and there was no moon. The gardens were minimally illuminated by several lampposts, but the one close to the shed was broken.

Even through the dark, Hermione could see Harry’s figure. He was pacing around, waiting. When he heard her footsteps, he looked up thinking it was Sally.

“What are you doing here?” Harry’s voice was aggressive.

“Harry, I…”

“Where is she?” he asked looking over Hermione’s shoulder, searching for Sally. “She sent you, didn’t she?”

“No, I came to talk to you.” Hermione was trying to make her voice sound calm, but she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to convince Harry to leave. She had seen him this angry before. She knew how stubborn Harry could be.

“Talk to me?” repeated Harry. Sarcasm seemed to always be present in his words lately. “She wants me to go, right? She doesn’t want me to take her away from this wonderful life she’s found.” Harry walked up to Hermione. “Well, you can go back and tell her that if she’s not here in five minutes… I’ll go get her. Even if I have to step over her dear husband.”

“Why are you doing this?” asked Hermione, looking into his green eyes. “You’re not like this, Harry. You wouldn’t do that.”

Harry looked back at her, fury in his eyes. “How do you know? She used me! She played with me while she was planning her life with that idiot.” Harry walked away, giving his back to her.

“I know,” replied Hermione. “I understand.”

“No, you don’t understand,” he said turning to face her. “I was going to ask her to marry me. I asked Moody for a couple of moths off so I could spend time with her. You say you understand me? Well, you don’t.” He took a couple of steps away from her, breathing with difficulty.

“You will never understand. She was mine! You… you never had anything with Charles. He doesn't even know about your feelings, but Sally did. She was in my arms. I kissed her. I made love to her.”

Hermione fell silent. Harry was right, not only about Sally but about Charles as well.

--------------------------------

Charles went looking for his wife to her mother’s room, but she wasn’t there. He immediately ran to Hermione’s, almost certain that Sally would be there. Without knocking, he threw the door open. His wife was sitting on the floor by Hermione’s bed. She looked as if she was trying to hide.

Charles quickly walked up to her and with one quick movement, grabbed her by the arms and pulled her up. Sally looked into his eyes. She had never seen him like that. Charles was always such a gentleman. She didn’t know there could be so much fury inside him.

“Where is he?” he demanded to know.

“Who?” asked Sally afraid to hear his answer. “What are you talking about?”

“You know who. I’m talking about Harry… your lover,” he threw the words at her face hoping those words would mark her flawless face.

Sally began to shake. “How did he found out?” she asked herself. But her frivolous side quickly woke up her mind. She had to talk her way out of this. She wasn’t going to let anybody ruin her perfect marriage.

She straightened herself, trying to look composed. “What are you talking about dear?”

“Don’t try to fool me. I found the note.” Sally remembered she had been so stupid to leave it in the restroom, but she quickly hid her emotions.

“Oh, that’s what you’re talking about,” she said, trying to sound innocent.

Charles, thinking she was trying to make fun of him, tightened his hold on her arms. “Now you remember, right? Now you know what I’m talking about.”

“Darling, you’re hurting me,” she complained with a childish voice. Charles, however, didn’t budge. “I can explain everything to you if you just let go of me.”

Reluctantly, Charles loosened his grip and threw her to the bed. Sally fell into it and quickly sat up. “Okay, I’ll tell you. I promised I wouldn’t open my mouth, but…”

Again, Charles grabbed one of her arms. “Alright, I’ll tell you,” she said. Charles let go of her and stood up, his arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m waiting,” he said after a few seconds. Sally’s mind was frantically trying to find an explanation. Then, an idea came to her mind.

“But you first promise me you won’t get mad at her,” said Sally with pleading eyes. “I don’t want you to get a bad impression of her.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Charles confused by her words and her change of attitude.

Sally looked at her hands, as if she were struggling to decide whether to tell him or not. Finally, she spoke again. “Hermione,” she said in a barely audible voice.

“What?”

“Hermione, she’s… the note was for Hermione,” she said still not looking up.

Charles thought for a moment, trying to remember if the note had the name it had been addressed to. Doubt came into his mind. The only name written on the note had been that of the person sending it. But who was the note really for?

“You’re making this up!” yelled out Charles.

Sally finally looked up at him. She quickly stood up and placed a hand on her husband’s arm. “I’m telling you the truth. Harry and Hermione have this… this thing. They’ve had it for a while now.”

Charles looked into Sally’s eyes trying to guess if she was lying. Noticing his doubts, Sally quickly continued, enlarging that lie as she went on.

“They’re lovers, but they kept it quiet. Hermione told me he wants to take her away. Her parents don’t like Harry.”

“I saw them talking this morning. They seemed okay with Harry.”

“That’s because they don’t know about them,” quickly added Sally. She had forgotten Charles had seen them together earlier that day. “But once they find out, they're not going to be so pleased. That’s why Harry sent her that note, ‘cause he wants to take her besides her parents' complains.”

Charles walked away from Sally, pondering the information she was giving him. Somehow it didn’t make sense. He couldn’t imagine Hermione in a situation like this, but then he remembered the previous day when he found them in the garden.

Even when they didn’t say anything, Charles noticed Harry and Hermione had been arguing. He had seen Hermione’s exasperated look. Perhaps it was true. Perhaps Sally was in fact telling him the truth. Still, the jealous, offended side of him made him doubt everything.

“You’re making this up!” he yelled at her. “You’re just trying to place the blame in someone else. You’re lying to me!”

Sally trembled for a second, but her instinct wouldn’t let her back off. “No!” she cried. “I’m telling you the truth. The note was for her. It was!” Sally started to fake little sobs trying to make him feel sorry for her.

“Please, believe me. I would never lie to you.”

“Then, why didn’t you ever tell me about them?” he asked firmly.

“She made me promise I’d keep the secret,” responded quickly Sally. “If you want you can see it for yourself.” As soon as Sally said that, she regretted it.

“How?” Charles demanded to know immediately.

Realizing it was too late to take it back, Sally went on. “She’s talking to him right now. They’re by the garden’s shed.”

Charles looked at her. “Okay,” he said, grabbing her by the elbow. “Let’s go then. I want you to repeat what you just told me in front of them.”

5. A Dream?

Aunt Betty could hear all the way to the hallway that Charles and Sally were arguing. Trying to find out what the problem was she headed towards Hermione’s bedroom. When she was a few feet away from the door, it suddenly opened. Charles came out dragging Sally along. Aunt Betty quickly realized something was wrong.

“Sally… Charles dear… what’s the matter?” she asked walking after them.

“Not now Betty,” responded Charles in a cold tone. He knew just how nosy his mother-in-law could be and was not in the mood to be a gentleman with her.

Still, she followed them, walking at a prudent distance but with her eyes and ears wide open. Sally tried to send some sort of sign for help to her mother, but Charles tightened his hold on her arm to keep her from doing it.

------------------------------------------------------

“…No matter what you say, Hermione. You’re not going to convince me.” Harry was beginning to lose his patience. He knew perfectly well Sally had sent Hermione to talk him into leaving. “I don’t even know why you’re helping her. She doesn’t deserve it!”

Just then, Charles and Sally - closely followed by Betty - came into view.

“So… you are here!” said Charles, looking from Harry to Hermione.

“See!” quickly added Sally to keep Hermione or Harry from saying anything. “I told you, but you didn’t want to believe me.”

“Well…” seeing them there was not good enough for him. “I still haven’t heard them confirm it.”

Hermione opened her mouth to ask what was happening. Seeing that, Sally quickly took the lead.

“I’m really sorry Hermione, but I had to tell Charles.” At that moment, Sally wished she could send mental messages to Hermione. As she was talking, Sally was moving her hands exaggeratedly, hoping that would tell her cousin that she was supposed to follow along. “He was staring to get horrible ideas about me and…”

Charles, however, quickly intervened to keep Sally from managing things her way. He wasn’t quite convinced that she had in fact told him the truth.

“Let me deal with this,” Charles said to her in a strong voice. Then, talking to Hermione, he continued. “Sally tells me you have… something to do with…“ He pointed a hand towards Harry, “…Harry.”

Hermione’s mouth fell wide opened. She turned towards Sally, an accusatory look on her face. To keep Hermione from saying anything contradictory, Sally quickly spoke.

“I know you made me promise, but I had no other choice. I just…”

“I told you to stay out of this!” interrupted Charles in a stronger tone.

Hermione was surprised to see Charles taking that attitude. She had always seen him as a gentleman with perfectly polite manners, especially towards women. Charles' eyes were sparkling with anger. Hermione realized that somehow Charles was beginning to suspect something was going on.

Knowing Sally very well, it dawned on Hermione’s mind that Sally had lied yet again. Hermione looked down. She just didn’t know what to do. She felt she was being nailed to the wall with no way out.

Slowly, she turned towards Harry. His face wore the same look of shock as Hermione’s. He had also guessed what had happened, but he remained silent. Seeing that neither Harry nor Hermione denied a thing, Charles thought that perhaps Sally had said the truth after all.

“You don’t deny it? So, I reckon… everything else is true as well,” he said slowly.

Hermione closed her eyes, feeling trapped in a big mess. She didn’t even want to know what else Sally had said, what other lie her selfish cousin had alleged to save her own ass.

“If it is,” Charles went on. “…then there’s no need to do things this way. Running away like this, in the middle of the night, as a couple of outlaws…” Then, walking toward Hermione, Charles added, “You deserve better than that.”

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Charles quickly interrupted her. “I really think your parents would rather you do things the right way.”

“Charles…” Sally tried to intervene, but quickly closed her mouth. Charles shot her a killer look that told her to be quiet.

Wanting to get to the bottom and see if in fact Hermione was the one who had been seeing Harry, Charles decided to push things one step further.

“As a matter of fact… it’s my duty - since now I’m a member of the family - to see that you do things the way they ought to be done.” Hermione looked at Sally, but Sally quickly looked away. “So… I’m not going to let you go with Harry… unless you two get married.”

“What?” Quickly questioned Sally, voicing what Hermione’s throat couldn’t articulate. “Are you insane? You can’t do that! You have no right…”

“I thought I told you to stay out of this, dear.” If Charles had expected someone to argue his decision, he never thought that person would be his wife. Sally’s reaction only made his doubts rise up again. What reasons could Sally have to get so upset at the idea of Hermione and Harry getting married?

“Besides,” Charles continued, pushing Sally aside. “I do have the right to demand it! Hermione’s in my house. She’s my responsibility, even more now that she’s a member of my family. What kind of man would I be if I let something like this happen? I’m sure Hermione’s parents will thank me for intervening.”

Hermione was speechless. She could not believe Sally had gotten her in so much trouble. But she was also surprised to see Harry’s reaction. He had not spoken a word. His face remained expressionless. It was almost as if he was enjoying the show.

“If you two want to be together, I can make things easier for you.” Then, placing a hand on Hermione’s shoulder, he added, “You know that my uncle, the judge who married me, has not left yet. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind performing another ceremony, say… tomorrow morning?”

“But Charles…” said Sally. The last thing she wanted was to see Harry tied to someone else. She hadn’t meant for things to get this far.

“Quiet!” Placing his free hand on Harry’s shoulder, he pulled him closer. “I see you two have no complains, right?” But he didn’t really give them a chance to answer. “We’ll get everything ready for a lovely ceremony, worthy of my dear cousin, to be celebrated first thing tomorrow before Sally and I leave for our wedding trip.”

Charles let go of them and for a few seconds looked into Hermione‘s eyes, waiting to see if she would say something, anything that could make him confirm that Sally had made up the whole thing. Hermione, not being able to hold his gaze, simply looked away.

Betty, who had witnessed the whole thing from a distance, walked up to Hermione. “Oh dear, another wedding! This is fabulous.” She hugged Hermione, but didn’t even look at Harry. “We need to send a note to your parents immediately!”

“No!” replied Hermione firmly.

Charles looked quickly at her, thinking that finally Hermione was going to speak up.

“That’s not necessary. I don’t want them to miss their conference. It’s something very important for them.”

Sally sighed in frustration.

“But sweetie… this is important too!” said Sally. “I’m sure they’d like to be present at your wedding.”

“Don’t worry Betty,” Charles intervened. “We’ll just arrange the legal ceremony. Later on, our lovely couple can celebrate a religious ceremony in London with all their family and friends present.”

As if Charles’ words had sealed the whole thing, Betty pulled Hermione into a one-arm hug and started leading her back to the mansion. Charles follow them, grabbing hold of his wife’s hand, not giving her a chance to look back at Harry, who simply turned around and walked away.

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Sally had tried to talk to either Harry or Hermione since the moment she got out of bed. Charles, however, had glued her to his side, preventing her from doing it. Finally, at about nine in the morning, he sent Sally to Hermione’s room to help her get ready for the ceremony, which was to take place at ten o’clock.

“You’re still here!?” said Sally in a surprised tone after opening the door to Hermione’s room. Sally had hoped Hermione would’ve left already.

Hermione, who was standing by the window, rolled her eyes at her, but remained silent. Seeing that Hermione wasn’t in a good mood, and especially not wanting to turn her on, Sally changed her attitude and walked closer to her.

“Charles wanted me to offer you one of the dresses I bought for my honeymoon so you can wear it at the ceremony,” she said. “But you don’t really want one of my dresses, do you?” asked Sally in a concerned voice.

Hermione could not believe Sally worried about giving up one of her precious new dresses. She shook her head, amazed to see how frivolous her cousin was. Sally took that as a no.

“Good,” she said sounding relieved. She then turned around and started pacing the room. “Hermione… you’re not going to go through with this, right?”

Hermione was about to ask her what it was that really worried her, Charles finding out the truth or Harry marrying someone else, but decided not to. Looking back out the window, se replied, “Don’t worry. I’m sure Harry’s gone by now.”

“Are you sure?” Sally asked quickly.

“I saw him walking towards the exit after last night’s meeting,” she answered without looking at her cousin. “You should be thankful he didn’t contradict you.” Then meeting Sally’s eyes, she added, “I knew he wouldn’t stay around to see what else you’d come up with.”

Not wanting to start arguing at that moment, Sally left the room, after quickly informing Hermione that the ceremony was to take place in the library at ten o’clock.

-----------------------------

At ten minutes to ten, a soft knock on Hermione’s door brought her out of her thoughts. Seconds later, Hermione opened the door to find Charles holding a small bouquet of white roses.

“For you,” he said. “For the ceremony.”

Hermione took the flowers from his hands and moved aside so he could step in. Seeing that she remained silent, Charles talked again. “Are you ready? I thought you were going to wear one of Sally’s dresses.” He said looking at her. “Not that this one isn’t good, of course,” he quickly added.

Hermione was wearing a simple lilac cotton summer dress with small daisies. She looked up at him expressionless.

“Of course, the bride has the right to make people wait.”

Hermione turned around. Her mind was not processing things. It seemed to her that she was seeing herself in a dream and that all she needed to do was pinch her arm to wake up. Then, she felt Charles hand on her shoulder.

“Hermione,” he said in a soft voice. “Is there anything you want to tell me?” She looked up at him and locked her brown eyes in his gray. “Is there anything I should know?”

She could just end everything at that very moment. She could just tell Charles the truth and put a stop to all of Sally’s lies. But for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Simply, she looked away for a few seconds.

“It’s time.” She said walking to the door.

“Alright then,” Charles said following her and offering his arm out.

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The door to the library opened. Hermione, arm-in-arm with Charles, slowly walked in.

The only decoration added to the room was a vase full of fresh flowers, which provided a nice smell. Some of the few people left in the mansion were present to witness the ceremony. Behind the handsome wooden desk, the judge smiled at her. Sally and her mother were standing to the right side of the desk. To the left side, Harry was waiting.

It took Hermione a few seconds to realize Harry was there. If Charles weren't holding her, she would have fallen to the floor. Her knees suddenly weakened. She hadn’t expected Harry to be there. She thought he'd be gone already. She had seen him walking towards the exit the night before.

The idea of running away came to her mind, but again, Charles was holding her and pulling her forward.

Finally, they reached the desk. Hermione took a quick look at Sally. Clearly, she was as surprised to see Harry there as Hermione was. Then, she felt Charles placing her hand in Harry’s.

Slowly, Hermione turned to look at Harry. He looked at her only for a few seconds then turned to face the judge, still holding her hand. The ceremony started as Hermione’s mind was twirling with so many thoughts.

This was a dream. For Merlin’s sake, this had to be a dream! She couldn’t marry Harry. He was just his friend. She admitted to herself she had once fancied him. Then again, who wouldn’t? He was a gorgeous man and time had only done wonders to him.

Still that was no reason to marry him. She should stop this whole thing. Let everyone know who Sally really was. Just then, Hermione turned to her left. Charles, Sally and Aunt Betty were there.

Aunt Betty was smiling happily at her, pleased to witness the wedding of her niece.

Hermione then remembered how sick her aunt had been just a couple months ago. Her heart had almost given up on her. Miraculously, the doctors had been able to bring her back. After that, they warned the relatives not to give her any reason to be upset if they wanted her to live a while longer.

Within seconds, images of Mrs. Granger blaming Hermione for the death of her loved sister invaded her mind. She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t be responsible for something like that.

Just then, a soft pull at her hand brought her back to reality. Everyone was looking at her. Apparently the judge had talked to her, but she hadn’t heard him.

“Miss…” said the judge to get her attention. “Do you, Hermione Jane…” he started to repeat the question, but Hermione interrupted him.

“Yes, I do.”

“Do you, Harry James Potter, take Hermione Jane Granger as your lawful wedded wife?”

“I do," he replied without looking at her.

"With the power invested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife," said the judge, though Harry and Hermione didn't seem to process his words. It wasn't until he added the final words that they looked at each other.

"You may kiss the bride."

Harry turned to face Hermione. The seconds were tickling away, but the newlyweds wouldn't even dare come close to each other. Sally was about to extend her hand to keep them for going on, but Charles, noticing that, quickly grabbed hold of her arm and squeezed it thigh.

Harry, seeing that quick interaction between the two, decided to defy Sally by doing exactly what she didn't want him to do. Slowly, he started closing the distance between him and Hermione.

Suddenly, Hermione's mind was invaded by his wonderful aftershave. Unconsciously, she closed her eyes as Harry's lips covered hers in a sweet, closed-mouth kiss.

Even when he had dreaded this moment just a few seconds ago, Harry found out that her lips actually felt great. They were so soft and silky, he felt the need to taste the flavor of her mouth, but just as he was staring to intensify the kiss nibbling at her lips Aunt Betty's fake cough stopped him.

Hermione opened her eyes wondering if what had just happened had actually taken place, but was not given too much time to think it through. Her aunt encircled her in a hug as she congratulated her.

A/N: I know that sometimes Harry and Hermione seemed a little OoC, but that was just to get them where they are now: married. Things are going to get better now.

And once again, thanks for all the reviews. J

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6. Dobby's Mistress

After the short ceremony, Harry grabbed hold of Hermione’s arm.

“We’re leaving now,” he announced to everyone. Aunt Betty quickly walked up to them.

“But… aren’t you going to stay for lunch?” She looked back at Sally, hoping she’d help her convince them to stay a little longer, but Sally remained silent.

“I’m sorry,” said Harry as politely as he could. “We have to go.”

“Let’s at least toast to your happiness,” offered Chares in a cold voice, suddenly regretting what he had force them to do.

Ignoring their requests to stay, Harry departed, dragging Hermione along. Minutes later, they were driving out of the mansion in the “get-away” car Harry had rented to take Sally.

It took them a little more than three hours to reach the town where Harry had rented the car. They both had remained silent during the ride.

Harry had so many things in his head, so many things he wanted to say to Hermione. He just didn’t know where to start. So, he said nothing. He was so upset with everything and with everybody.

He was furious at Sally for lying to him, and for being so selfish to ignore the trouble she was getting them in with all her lies. He was angry at Charles for being so blind to ignore what kind of woman he had married, and for being so presumptions to think he could decide over their lives.

But most of all, Harry was angry at Hermione for getting in his way and stopping him from giving that slut Sally what she deserved. His idea had been to take Sally away, not to keep her at his side, but to put her in evidence which would then separate her from the good things she thought she had secured.

And perhaps what upset Harry even more was to see Hermione letting her stupid cousin walk all over her. He had entered the library that morning curios to see how far were the two cousins willing to go. One making things up to save her own ass; the other one being a pushover.

Once in town, Harry drove directly to the rental place, so he could return the car. Twenty minutes later, he again grabbed hold of Hermione’s arm and started walking away. Once they were in a deserted alley, with no curious eyes looking around, he apparated both of them directly to the old Black House.

Before Hermione knew it, they were standing in the middle of Harry’s kitchen. Finally, he loosened his strong grip on her. Without saying a word, Harry walked up to the sink and drank some water. Hermione looked at him as if she was seeing him for the first time.

“How could you let this happen?” she asked him.

Harry remained silent for a few minutes, giving his back to her. Finally, he let out a sigh and turned around to face her, the glass still in his hands.

“Like you did anything either,” he replied, his voice sounding as angry as it had been lately. “Damn it Hermione! I still can believe you let her get away with it!” He walked closer to her as his voice got louder. “Why didn’t you let me do things my way? Why did you have to play the heroine and get in the middle of it?”

“You think I did this willingly?” she spat at him. How could he possible blame her for all that had happened? It just wasn’t fair. She was just as much a victim as Harry.

“You think I was enjoying myself as Sally played with our lives as if we all were puppets in her hands? Well, I didn’t!”

Harry looked away. He needed a way to release all the anger that was burning his insides. Suddenly, he threw the glass he had been holding straight to the wall. Hermione closed her eyes, not sure of what to do.

“You could’ve done something. You could have said the truth," he yelled at her.

“Why me?” she replied quickly. “You and Sally were the ones who made all this mess. It was your problem, not mine.” She walked away, grabbing hold of a chair near by. She was tired. She felt exhausted; not physically, but emotionally.

This whole situation was driving her to the edge. The last thing she needed was to hear Harry’s complains. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temple. She was getting a headache with so much stress.

Harry had fallen silent. He knew deep inside him that Hermione was right, but his anger was pushing that fact aside. Still, he also felt sick of this situation. He would’ve never guessed that his so-much-needed time off would be turning up like this.

Without saying a word to her, he walked out of the room. Hermione barely noticed his absence. Carelessly, she let her body sink on the chair she had been holding and leant over the table burying her face in her arms.

----------------------------------------

Hours later, Hermione was woken up by a long hand that softly shook her arm.

"Miss..." said a shrilly voice. "You should go to bed, Miss."

Suddenly not sure of where she was or who was talking to her, Hermione rubbed her eyes, trying to focus her thoughts. Then, she noticed the small creature standing by her side, looking intensively at her.

"Dobby!"

As her mind cleared, Hermione remembered where she was. She hadn't even noticed when she fell asleep, but her sore muscles told her she had been there for quite a while.

"Your room is ready Miss," said Dobby. "Or perhaps, Miss, you may want to eat something before going to bed."

Hermione smiled at Dobby. "Thanks Dobby, but I'm not hungry." She stood up, trying to wake up her sore muscles. Hermione noticed Dobby hadn't moved and wouldn't stop staring at her. Finally, he spoke.

"May Dobby ask a question Miss?" asked Dobby while rubbing her long hands.

"Of course Dobby, what is it?"

He remained silent for a few seconds, then he talked. "Is it true, Miss, that you are Harry Potter's wife?"

"Harry Potter's wife," thought Hermione. It felt so weird to hear those words. "I reckon I am," she said more to herself, as if she was finally realizing that fact.

Dobby's face illuminated with the biggest grin Hermione had ever seen in him. "Oh my!" Then, he started clapping her long hands. "At last!" he said. "Finally, Dobby's dream has come true."

"What dream?" asked an amused Hermione.

"Oh!" said Dobby. He hadn't realized he had spoken his thoughts out loud. "It's just, Miss, Dobby always hoped that you would some day be Harry Potter's wife."

"You did?" asked Hermione surprised by his words.

"Oh yes! Nobody else but you would be the perfect person for that, Miss." He looked up at the sky, thinking. Then, looked back at her. "Or... I should say Mrs.?"

Hermione smiled at that.

"Miss?" said Dobby softly as if wanting to prevent anybody else from hearing him. "Will Dobby be allowed to… call you Mistress?" Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but Dobby didn't give her a chance.

"Dobby is not allowed to call Harry Potter master." Then he got closer to her and looked around, making sure there was nobody else in the kitchen - even when he already knew that. "But, you know, Miss... Dobby still thinks of him as his master," he whispered.

A nervous laugh came out of Dobby as he said that. Hermione placed a hand by her mouth, to imitate Dobby's secretive way, and got closer to his right hear.

"I know," she said.

After Dobby offered to feed her for the second time, Hermione decided it was time for her to go home. “Well,” she said afraid that she’d have to leave without saying good bye to Harry, but being in the state he was she didn’t fancy getting into another round with him.

“I’m gonna go now,” she said, meaning “go home.”

Dobby, however, did not take it that way. “Of course, Mistress,” a little laugh came out of Dobby as he said that. “… Dobby shall take you to your room.”

Quickly, he went to the kitchen’s door and opened it for her.

“Oh boy!” Hermione thought. She looked at her wristwatch and realized it was almost ten o’clock. She could see Dobby’s excitement as he led her through the well-known hallway. “I reckon I could just stay here tonight.”

“Dobby hopes, Mistress,” another little laugh. “… you find your room suitable.”

A sudden thought came to Hermione’s mind. “Oh Merlin! I just hope he’s not taking me to Harry’s room.” But when she saw Dobby was stopping at the door of the same bedroom she had always occupied when staying at the Black House since the times of the Order of the Phoenix’s headquarters, she felt more relaxed.

Dobby grabbed hold of the silver doorknob and, in a very slow way, turned it open. Hermione was just about to push it the door when Dobby opened it wide and stood aside so she could walk in. For a second, Hermione thought Dobby had taken her to the wrong bedroom. The room did not look as she remembered it.

Everything in the room was different. The two twins beds in which Hermione and Ginny used to sleep had been replaced, or magically transformed into a huge, gorgeous four poster fit for a queen. White, see-through curtains hung from its posters. Several fluffy pillows rested neatly atop white silky bed linens.

Besides the bed, every other piece of furniture had changed as well. Elegant dressers and night stands, with exquisite carving work sat placidly along the room. Several silver candleholders were placed throughout the spacious room - somehow the room seemed bigger - providing a mellow atmosphere.

Hermione walked around the room, admiring the improvements. Then, she turned questioningly to Dobby.

“Did you do this?”

Dobby didn’t reply, but his attitude was more than eloquent. He was balancing his weight on the balls of his feet, his eyes were firmly focused on the floor, his hands holding each other in his back.

Hermione walked up to him and without ceremony placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

Dobby looked at her dumbstruck. He placed a hand over the cheek the kiss had been placed on as his eyes opened wide, taking a quick look around the room making sure nobody had witnessed that.

“Thank you so much, Dobby,” said Hermione. “Nobody had ever done anything this sweet for me before.”

“Dobby is glad to see his Mistress is pleased,” Dobby said, after he was able to regain the ability to speak. “Dobby will go now. Don’t doubt to call Dobby if you need anything, Mistress.” After saying that, he left the room.

--------------------------------------------

About three hours later, Hermione woke up. Perhaps because she spent most of the afternoon napping or because she hadn't eaten anything all day and her stomach was protesting, she couldn't sleep.

Not even the fluffy pillows or the soft sheets helped her to go back to sleep. Due to the loud noises her belly was making, which she was sure were bound to wake up Dobby even when he slept in the upper level, she decided to go down to the kitchen and get something to eat.

Lazily, she dragged her legs out of the sheets and placed her bare feet on the carpeted floor. She realized the carpet must be new too. It didn't use to feel as soft as it did now.

Slowly, she made her way out to the hallway, down the stairs and into the kitchen. She was wearing the exact same thing Harry had lent her a couple years ago to use as pajamas.

One Saturday, she had visited Harry to check on him after not seeing him for almost three months. They had so much to talk about they didn't feel time pass by. Before they knew it, midnight was upon them. Harry suggested that she'd stayed over and she accepted gladly.

Since the jeans she was wearing that day weren't too comfortable to sleep in, Harry handed her a pair of his boxers and an old t-shirt. After that day, the shirt and boxers stayed in the room's wardrobe for her to use whenever she needed.

Since that day, every time she spent the night at Harry's - which wasn't that often - she'd wear those garments.

Hermione had been pleasantly surprised to find the shirt and boxers in one of the dresser's drawers. Dobby had knowledge of her using Harry's clothes to sleep in, and had made sure they were available in case she wanted to use them.

She wasn't sure what had made her put them on that night. Perhaps it had become a habit for her or perhaps she was longing those days when Harry and her had nothing to fight about, except which movie to watch.

She was thinking about those days as she opened the refrigerator (Harry was too use to some muggle appliances) to see what she could find. A half smile was drawn on her face as she saw there were plenty of already-made dishes to eat.

"Dobby's doing, of course!" she thought as she grabbed a platter of roasted chicken and placed it on the table. She was just getting a plate from the cabinets when she heard another pair of bare feet hitting the stone floor. She turned to find the green eyes of Harry looking at her in a strange way.

Harry was frozen at the door. He didn’t expect to find her there at that time of night.

Hermione didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t even sure if it was wise to speak to him. Lately, all he had been doing was bite her head off. Unconsciously, she scanned him with her eyes. He was only wearing his pajamas bottoms.

She couldn’t help but admire the well-toned muscles of his firm chest, his broad shoulders, his strong arms. When she realized she was staring, she quickly looked away, hoping that Harry wouldn’t notice. His eyes, however, were not telling anything to Hermione. His face was expressionless.

For a few minutes, they both remained silent. Finally, Harry walked in and went to the table.

“This looks good,” he said looking at the chicken on the table. Hermione nodded. She then handed him the plate she had just taken out for her. Harry looked right into her brown eyes. All anger was gone, but his eyes didn’t shine as they used to.

Finally, he grabbed hold of the plate and sat at the table. Hermione took out another plate for her and sat across from where Harry was sitting. After a warming charm was placed on their chicken, they started eating in silence.

At least, Hermione was thankful to see Harry was not yelling at her anymore. About fifteen minutes later, Harry broke the silence.

“I reckon I should let you know that I’m gonna be gone for a few days,” he informed her as he was pushing aside his now empty plate. He hadn’t eaten much the day before either.

“Where are you going?” she asked with concern in her voice. Hermione was afraid Harry would want to go and look for Sally again.

A half smile appeared in his handsome face. He had guessed her thoughts. “I went to the Ministry this afternoon,” he said leaning back in his chair. “I withdrew my request for time off. So, I was assigned to a mission. We’ll be leaving tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh,” was all Hermione was able to say.

She knew that requesting time off had been a big thing for Harry. He was always very focused on his work, but she also thought that having his mind occupied might do him good.

“But, I was thinking…” he said not meeting her eyes. “…that maybe you could stay here for a few days.” Hermione remained silent. “It’s just that Dobby seems to be a little too excited about… this whole… marriage thing. I reckon I shouldn't have said anything to him." he said talking more to himself.

"I’m sure you could tell how excited he is just by looking at the changes he made to your room,” he said as he passed a hand through his raven hair. “I just don’t want him to feel disappointed if you were to stay here for only one night.”

Hermione thought about it for a while. She reckoned now that he seemed to have stopped fuming at her, she wouldn’t feel that uncomfortable staying at his house. Besides the fact that he wasn’t even going to be there made things easier for her.

“Alright,” she said after some pondering. “I’ll stay for a few days.”

“Good,” Harry replied. Right after, he stood up and walked to the door. He was just leaving when he stopped. Slowly, he turned to face her.

“Do you love him this much that you’re willing to sacrifice yourself for him?” he said in a barely audible voice.

But he didn’t give her a chance to respond, perhaps because he really didn’t want to know. He turned around and walked out of the room before Hermione could reply.

7. Intruder in the Night

The next day, Harry was at the Ministry getting ready for the mission he’d be going to later that day, or at least he was supposed to be getting ready. In reality, he had been sitting on his chair for more than an hour staring at the fake window, lost in his thoughts. Suddenly, a voice brought him back.

“Harry? Harry!!”

When his mind finally registered someone was calling his name, he turned around to face the newcomer.

“Oh! Hey…” he greeted Lupin, in a low voice.

“My, what a warm greeting that was,” Lupin said mockingly. “And what are you doing here, anyway?” Lupin asked as he walked in and sat down at a chair across from Harry. “Didn’t you request a couple of months off? I thought you’d be in your honeymoon by now.”

Remus Lupin, who also worked for the Aurors doing special undercover work, knew all about Sally and Harry’s plans to propose to her. Harry had planned on introducing the two after Sally had accepted to be his wife.

“Well?” pressed Lupin after seeing that Harry wasn’t talking much. “What happened? Didn’t you get married?”

An ironic smile was drawn in Harry’s face. “Oh, I got married alright!”

“Then, why are you here? Moody told me you’re leaving on a mission today.” Then, changing his voice to a more concerned tone, he asked, “Did you and Sally have a fight?”

Harry shook his head. “Did we fight?” he repeated.

“Will you just tell me what the bloody hell is going on?” said Lupin with a tinge of frustration in his voice.

Knowing this was one of the few people - if not the only one - he felt confident enough to talk about his private business, Harry decided to talk. “Well,” he said getting up. “I did get married… but not to Sally.”

Lupin looked at him as if he’d be speaking in another language. Seeing his puzzled expression, Harry continued.

“I… uh… married someone else.”

Lupin’s expression was so comical, Harry was about to laugh. To add to Lupin’s surprise, Harry gave him one more piece of information.

“I married Hermione.” He simply said.

Lupin opened his mouth, but no sound came out, and he closed it. He scratched his head for a few seconds to finally stand up and face the wizard, who obviously was pulling his leg.

“You mean… Hermione? As in… Hermione Granger?”

“Well,” replied Harry. “Actually, now it’s… Hermione Potter.”

Lupin took a step back and slowly began to talk. “Okay, do you want to explain to me how in Merlin’s name this happened?”

Harry spent the next minutes, telling Lupin everything that had happened the previous weekend. Lupin listened to him without interrupting, trying to bring together the pieces of this screwed up puzzle.

After he was bombarded with all that information, Lupin sat tiredly back in his chair. After a few seconds of open-mouthed pondering, he spoke.

“I can’t believe it!”

Harry sat down as well. “I still don’t believe it either.”

“Cousins! They… are cousins!” Lupin looked at his adopted-grandson intently. “And you never…”

“No,” said Harry interrupting. “I could’ve never guessed they were related. I reckon in part it’s all my fault,” he said looking away. “My relationship with Sally was always so… full of shadows. In a way I wanted to keep it like that so she wouldn’t find out about… you know, things that a muggle isn’t supposed to know. But that also allowed her to have secrets of her own.”

“And, what are you going to do now? About Hermione, that is,” asked Lupin after a while.

Harry hadn’t thought about it, but now that Lupin had brought it to his attention he didn’t know what to say. “Well… get a divorce, I reckon. But I’m sure Hermione will take care of that. If she hasn’t done it already!” Somehow the thought alone made him feel uneasy.

"If you don't mind my saying," said Lupin when he had finally recovered from the unexpected surprise. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to leave right now. I think you should work this out with Hermione first."

Harry closed his eyes, giving it some thought. "No. I need to get away from everything. I need some time to think things through."

"And, what about Sally?" asked Lupin.

Harry looked quickly at him. Just hearing her name upset him. It turned his mind on defensive mode.

"I don't even want to talk about her."

----------------------------

Hermione also needed to think things through. Now that she was alone in the big Black house, or better said the Potter house, she had plenty of time to do it. That was the time that Dobby would leave her alone.

He was very pleased to have his new Mistress home. Before leaving, Harry had told him to watch after her and make sure she had everything she needed. Of course, Dobby didn’t need to be told that.

He had taken as his primary responsibility watching after Hermione. Dobby would do anything he could think of to keep her entertained. Since she didn’t feel much like socializing with other people, she would only leave the house early in the morning to take a walk, spending the rest of the day in the house enjoying Dobby’s company.

It was during those early morning walks when she had the chance to let her thoughts invade her.

She was now a married woman! A married woman without her wedding night, but still married. When she was younger, she used to imagine how her wedding would be like. Hermione was not the kind of woman who fancied a grand wedding, with hundreds of guests and tons of beautiful floral arrangements at an elegant hall.

She didn’t even care about one of those gorgeous, expensive wedding gowns most girls dreamed about. No, she didn't want any of that.

On the other hand, she had always hoped that her wedding would be a private, quiet reunion at an open space, like a beach, or even a park in the woods, where a romantic ceremony could take place.

Of course, she had always expected her parents to be present. She could see her father walking her down the aisle – or a pretend aisle if the ceremony was in an open space – and then gently placing her hand into the hands of her husband-to-be. She would’ve also liked for her closest friends to be there, instead of a bunch of curious people who wouldn’t really care for her.

But the one thing she had expected, if none of the above would have been possible, was to marry someone who she deeply loved and who loved her as well. Was that too much to ask?

Instead, she had been forced into a fake marriage just so her dear cousin could save her neck. It was amazing to see how the selfishness of one person could ruin the lives of all those around her.

There was one thing that made Hermione the most upset. Sally had risked Harry and Hermione’s friendship. She had placed them in a situation where they had to confront each other.

Harry blamed Hermione for what had happened. He had told her that many times. He was still upset with her, and she knew it. Even when the last time she saw him, the day he left on his mission, he hadn’t talked to her in that sarcastic way, she could still feel distance between them.

His gorgeous green eyes had lost that wonderful, natural glow that had always made them so special. And that made Hermione angry. Sally didn’t deserve that. “Oh! If only Sally were here…” she thought, closing her fists.

But as Hermione thought about it, she also realized she would never hurt her. Not just because she wouldn’t hurt a human being, who unfortunately happened to be related to her, but because Harry loved Sally.

Hermione knew that even when Harry was so angry with this whole thing, he loved Sally and, sooner or later, he’d forgive her.

That thought made Hermione’s insides burn. “Why do I care? As far as I’m concerned, they can both go to hell!”

But her dreams told a different story. Once her mind was deep in the world of dreams, her subconscious worked against her. An image kept appearing. She could clearly hear a voice in the background saying “You may kiss the bride.” Then Harry would appear, take her in his arms and kissed her as she had never been kissed before.

Hermione would wake up breathing hardly, still filling in her lips the sweetness of Harry’s kiss. “What the bloody hell is wrong with me?” she wondered. “I’m going insane!”

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On the third day of Hermione’s stay at Harry’s, her mobile phone rang insistently. She had almost forgotten it was still packed with her things. Hermione knew quite well who was calling her even before she answered, her mother.

“Where on heart have you been? I’ve called you a hundred times! Couldn’t you spare five minutes to call home? And, what’s all this rubbish about you getting married? Betty phoned us all the way to Sweden. You want to tell me what the bloody hell is going on?” Her mother had said all this so quickly she hadn’t really given time Hermione to answer.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione told her mum she’d be home that afternoon and explain to her what had happened. Hermione didn’t fancy doing it over the phone. When she got to her parents’ that afternoon, Mr. Granger was there too, wanting to know what his daughter had been up to.

It took Hermione about twenty minutes to explain everything to her parents. She didn’t leave a single detail out.

“Oh honey,” said Mrs. Granger. “I never imagined that Sally would put you in a situation like this. Of course we all know she’s always been a little spoiled, but this… I’ll talk to Betty,” she said after a while.

“No, mum,” quickly added Hermione. “There’s no need for you to get in the middle of this. I’m sure things will come out on their own. Nothing remains hidden under the sun.” Reluctantly, Hermione’s mum agreed.

“And what about this marriage of yours?” asked Mr. Granger.

“Don’t worry dad. Harry and I will take care of it.”

---------------------------------------------

A little more than two weeks had passed since the day Harry left. That Saturday night, Hermione was alone in the old house. She had finally convinced Dobby to go visit Winky as he had always done. The previous weekend, Dobby had only gone to Hogwarts for a few hours instead of the two whole days as he used to.

“Dobby was told to take care of his Mistress!” he had said to Hermione.

“Yes,” she replied. “But Harry didn’t say anything about you doing it during your days off. Besides I can take care of myself.”

After making a disbelieving noise with his throat, Dobby had left earlier that day. Hermione was glad to see that the day had ended and he hadn’t come back, though she worried Dobby’s feelings might have been hurt. She felt terrible for making him work more than he usually did, but there was little she could say to convince him otherwise.

That night, she had been sleeping for a few hours when she was suddenly woken up by weird noises coming from downstairs. At first Hermione thought she had only imagined the noises; perhaps it had been just a dream. But then she heard a louder noise, as if something heavy would’ve fallen to the ground.

Hermione gasped in surprise. “Oh, no! Sounds like someone broke in the house.” Slowly, she got out of bed and walked towards the door. She pressed her ear against the closed door searching for noises in the hallway. She didn’t hear anything. Then, she opened the door just enough for her to take a peek.

Holding her wand tight in her hand, she left her room. Slowly, she headed to the stairs. When she was at the top, she carefully scanned the hallway downstairs with her eyes.

However, the little light that barely illuminated the area didn’t allow her to see quite well. Still, she was almost certain the hallway was empty. She started to descend the stairs hoping her weight wouldn’t make the steps squeak.

The stairs seemed to be reading her mind for they remained noiseless as she walked down. When she was at the bottommost step, she found what had caused that loud thump. The hideous troll-leg like umbrella stand (which Hermione had no idea why Harry had kept) lay carelessly in the floor proving her that in fact someone had broken in.

Just then she heard noises coming form the kitchen. Tightening her grip on her wand, she headed in that direction. She stopped at the closed door, listening as it seemed that whoever was inside was rummaging trough the kitchen cabinets.

Hermione was recalling a couple of the good spells she had learn in their DA meetings, when she heard the intruder talk.

“BUGGER!”

Hermione immediately recognized that voice and walked into the room. There, giving his back to her, stood Harry. As he heard her came in, he turned to face her. Hermione gasped at the sight before her.

His appearance was horrible. He sported a black eye and a swollen lip, and his clothes were all dirty. In fact, the edge of his cloak – which had been carelessly thrown into a chair – and his pants were stained with mud. However, what impressed Hermione the most were the blood stains on his shirt. Just then, Hermione noticed his right arm tightly pressed to his chest and supported by his other arm.

He was injured.

Hurriedly, she came up to him. “Oh, Merlin! Let me see that,” she said.

However, Harry would not let her see his wound. “It’s alright, Hermione,” he said quickly. “I’m fine.”

Scanning the mess he had on the counter, Hermione realized he had taken out several potion ingredients. He had been attempting to fix himself some kind of potion to cure his wound, not doing a very good job using only one hand.

“C’mon Harry, you need help.” She could see in his eyes he was in pain.

“I can do it myself,” he insisted.

Hermione couldn’t understand why he was trying to push her away, but she wasn’t going to take it. “I don’t mean to brag, but I’m better than you at potion making,” she said in a this-is-serious-business way. She then pushed him until he was forced to sit down at a chair behind him.

“Now sit still and hold on, and take that filthy shirt off!” she said, her voice sounding firm and strong.

He finally gave up and did as told. Quickly, Hermione busied herself mixing several ingredients in a small cauldron. As the potion simmered, she took out of the cabinet a jar that contained murtlap essence. Minutes later, the potion was ready.

With quick movements of her skilled hands, she emptied the contents of the jar into a basin large enough for his hand to fit in. The contents of the cauldron were placed into a smaller bowl. Then, she walked up to him carrying both things, but stood there looking at him for a few seconds.

“I should clean up the wounds first,” she said talking to herself. “Otherwise the mud will not let the remedies work to their fullest.”

With a wave of her wand, she conjured a small bucket with warm water and a soft sponge. She kneeled before him and, after soaking the sponge, made a movement to take his hurt hand in hers. Harry didn’t move for a second. After he sighed in resignation, he let out his hand to her.

Slowly so that she wouldn’t hurt him too much, Hermione held his hand on hers and cleaned his wound. After making sure there was no trace of mud left, she submerged his injured hand into the murtlap essence. The same thing she gave him years ago to heal the exact same hand after some hours of detention at Umbridge’s office.

As his hand was covered by the smelly liquid, the skin around the wound started prickling, sending a tickling sensation all the way to his shoulder. Meanwhile, Hermione was now washing the sponge clean.

This time, she started cleaning his bruised face. Hermione had prepared some sort of paste out of several plants and some other ingredients. The result was some light brown mixture, which she softly started to rub around the bruise in his eye.

As she was gently rubbing the side of his face, Harry closed his eyes. He could feel a warm sensation where Hermione was massaging. Harry thought it was because of the mixture. However, he then noticed that he could feel the same sensation coming from her other hand, which rested on his shoulder.

Harry tried to ignore it as he breathed in deeply. But as he did that, he inhaled Hermione’s scent. His senses were invaded by the wonderful smell her body generated. He could even perceive her muggle shampoo.

A half-smile was drawn on his face as he breathed in once again, enjoying the sensations that having her so close brought to him.

Then, the warm feeling was gone. Harry quickly opened his eyes to see that she had placed the bowl on the table and was now getting ready to go back to his hand. She pulled it out of the essence, carefully wiped it clean with a dry hand towel and wrapped it up with a white bandage.

Harry never broke his gaze on her through the entire process, but Hermione didn’t notice.

After his hand was ready, Hermione, once again, soaked the sponge in the water, which thanks to a handy spell, had remained at a comfortable temperature.

Harry’s eyes were following her every move. She sure was good at it. Even when his wounds were sore, her movements were soft enough to cause him the less additional pain possible.

He smiled at her expression, quite concentrated in the task at hand. When she was convinced the sponge was clean enough, she brought it up to his swollen lip.

She looked at him for a while, suddenly realizing he had been staring at her. All of a sudden Hermione’s throat went dry. She swallowed hard as her stomach made a somersault. Reluctantly, she pulled her gaze away from him.

Slowly, she began rubbing the wet sponge over his lips. Harry’s eyes were focused on her. A strong force was pulling him to her as if her eyes were magnets. Hermione’s once steady hand began to tremble.

Trying to hide it from him, she pulled her hand away and submerged the sponge into the water. She looked at his lips to make sure they were mudless. Then, the dream she had been having all those nights came to her mind. The memory of the one kiss they had shared at their wedding ceremony.

She was having difficulty breathing. The room’s temperature seemed to have gone up a few degrees. If it wasn’t that then Hermione couldn’t understand why she felt hot all of a sudden.

Taking a deep breath, she dropped the sponge – his lips were clean now – and extended her hand towards the little bowl so she could rub some healing paste on his lip. However, Harry didn’t give her a chance to reach it.

He grabbed hold of her wrist and pulled her towards him. Then, Harry cupped her face with both his hands, looking deeply into her eyes. Slowly, he began to get closer to her. Hermione’s eyes widened as he softly pulled her towards him.

Immediately, she looked again at his lips, which were slightly parted. She was dying for him to kiss her. As she felt him move even closer to her, she closed her eyes unconsciously.

Right at that moment, the memory became something real. His lips were once again covering hers, nibbling and biting softly. This time there were no intruders to stop their need to take in the other.

Urgently, Harry’s tongue begged for entrance. Hermione didn’t need a second request. She quickly opened up, offering him the flavors of her mouth. He was amazed to see how sweet and warm her mouth felt against his. The velvet of her tongue was sending sensations down his spine that urged him to seek more.

And he did. His hands went down from her face to her waist as he got off the chair and kneeled next to her, encircling her in his arms and kissing her with all the passion he had built up inside.

A/N: I’m sorry it took me sooo long to update, but I promise it won’t happen again. Anyways, here comes the reason why this fic is rated NC-17. So… you’ve been warned! If you don’t want to read that part, skip to the second scene.

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8. In His Arms

The streets of London were quite. At that late hour of the night, very few people walked around the city. Most of the residents were sound asleep, but the two inhabitants of Number 12 Grimmauld Place were not.

Harry and Hermione were standing in the middle of his room, kissing desperately. Somehow, neither one of them seemed to know exactly how, they had moved from the kitchen to his bedroom. All logic forgotten, they had surrendered to their bodies' sudden and unexpected need for the other.

Harry’s hands were openly exploring her body, as his mouth took in the sweetness of her mouth. He had nothing else in his mind, but her. He needed her. He needed her touch and her taste as he had never needed anything else before.

At first, he asked himself where this sudden urge to have her was coming from, but quickly forgot all about it. He didn’t even want to analyze the situation. He just wanted to enjoy the moment to the fullest extent.

As for Hermione, her mind had gone into shock at the first kiss, denying what was happening. “It’s just my dream,” she thought. “The same dream I’ve been having lately. It’s just getting a little more… intense, but… it’s just a dream. I’ll be waking up soon.”

But as the seconds passed, as she felt Harry’s hands wondering around her curves, as she felt a wave of sensations invading her senses, she finally accepted it was no dream.

Harry was kissing her. He was eagerly devouring her!

But what amazed her the most was her own reaction. Her body had responded to him without asking her for permission. Her lips had opened up to him and even kissed him back. Her hands were as anxious to touch every inch of his body as his hands were. Her heart was beating in her throat and her knees had forgotten they were supposed to hold her weight. If Harry wasn’t holding her tightly, she’d be on the floor.

The situation was beyond her understanding, and her mind refused to process it just as Harry’s did.

The need for each other was getting so intense, their clothes seemed to be in the way. Without ceremony, Harry pulled up her, or I should say “his”, shirt off and tossed it aside to find a couple of modest, but exquisite bare breasts. Not wasting time, he got to his knees and pulled the boxers down.

He couldn’t but gasp when he found out that underneath those boxers Hermione was wearing a delicate black lacy thong. The sight of her in that delicious piece of clothing made his blood boil. Her soft curves where accentuated by the black fabric of her thong, which contrasted perfectly with the soft cream color of her skin.

“Merlin!” he said. “You're perfect.” He could’ve never guessed that under her regular sweaters and blue jeans Hermione hid such a seductive figure.

He grabbed hold of her waist and buried his face on her flat stomach, breathing in her scent.

Hermione started breathing in short gasps as she felt his hands touching her bare skin. The sensation of his calloused fingers on her was electrifying, her knees finally gave up. She ended up kneeling next to him.

Looking deeply into the brown of her eyes, Harry saw she was experiencing the same intense feelings, the same desire, the same need, the same passion that he felt.

Having his gaze upon her, Hermione got rid of the last bit of reasoning she had left and decided she was not going to let anything ruin this moment. She had allowed him to get this far and she was not going to back off.

Feeling bold, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed his mouth passionately. Then, her hands came down and started tagging at his pants. He was surprised, but glad to see she was ready for it. He pulled away, getting to his feet. Gently, he took her hand and pulled her up as well.

His pants were already undone and fell freely to the floor. Without taking her eyes off of her, Harry stepped out of his pants, still holding her hands. Then, he pulled Hermione to him and encircled her in an embrace.

As he was kissing her, Hermione felt how his strong arms raised her from the floor. Slowly, he made his way to the big bed behind them and gently placed her body on the bed.

Crawling next to her, he lay silent and still for a few minutes, allowing her time to stop if she wanted to. But stopping was way out of her mind. Missing the warmth of his body, she raised her upper body and slowly placed herself on top of him.

Harry was still amazed by the unsuspected beauty he had found in his best friend. With Hermione resting on top of him, her breast softly brushed his chest. He could perfectly feel her harden nipples burning his skin.

He couldn’t take it anymore and eagerly took one of her breast in his mouth. Hermione groaned in pleasure, burying her fingernails in his shoulders. Harry, however, didn’t seem to notice as he went from one breast to the other sucking and biting gently.

Soon after, the few remaining garments left were thrown to the floor. Hermione’s mind went into overdrive as she felt his fingers touching her most intimate corner. He wanted to touch and kiss every inch of her body to memorize her every angle and store it in his mind forever.

Hermione followed his lead and explored his body as well. She was surprised to see how eagerly her body responded to his touch. She had never felt this way before, and was sure she’d never feel the same way with any other man.

Wanting to be as close to her as humanly possible, Harry settled on top of her and parted her tights with his legs. She was more than wiling to let him in. She needed it.

But he was taking his time, wanting to delay that moment as further as possible. That, however, was driving Hermione crazy. He smiled as she groaned in frustration when instead of penetrating her, he kissed and caressed her flat stomach.

He was also dying to be inside of her, but he wanted her to enjoy it just as much as he. Knowing perfectly well what part of her body needed to be stimulated, he focused his attention to that little, hidden muscle. First his fingers caressed it. Then, his mouth softly sucked it, taking in her natural flavors.

Spasms of pleasure, made Hermione tremble under him. Seeing the effect he was having on her made him feel even more aroused. He had to be inside her or he was going to drive himself insane. Reluctantly, he raised his face away from her and placed his groin where his mouth had been.

To make sure he wouldn’t trick her again, Hermione encircled her legs around his waist. The warmth of her sex against his hardening made him gasp. Finally, they both experienced the feeling of being deeply connected with each other.

They seemed to fit perfectly, as if they had been made especially for the other, as if one was the complement of the other. Between kisses and moans, they touched the sky as their bodies reached their satisfaction. Hermione’s cry of pleasure could be heard throughout the house.

Minutes later, they were able to breath normally again. Lying on their sides, facing each other, they looked into each other’s eyes. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione quickly placed her fingers on his lips to keep him from talking.

She didn’t want the moment to get ruined by a few words. He smiled at her and remained silent, taking in the soft features of her face while tracing with his fingers her soft curves from her neck to her tights. They stayed there content to be next to the other. Slowly, their tired bodies drifted into a restful sleep.

Just before closing her eyes, Hermione took one last look at the man beside her. She knew that nothing else in the world would ever matter to her anymore, but him. She’d never be the same. She had felt what it was to be fully complemented by someone else and she knew nobody will ever make her feel like that.

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Hours later, Harry woke up. His eyes remained closed for a while as he was trying to drift back into sleep. He felt very comfortable in his warm bed, with its soft sheets and its fluffy pillows and “…what the…”

He quickly opened his eyes to find out a beautiful, naked girl sleeping next to him. For a second, he had forgotten Hermione was there, in his bed!

He quickly became quite aware of the position of their bodies. He was lying flat on his back. Hermione rested on his side, nicely cuddled next to him. Part of her upper body rested on top of his chest as one of her slender legs had found its way on top of his thigh. Her left hand rested on top of his chest.

Harry’s arm was protectively brining her close to him. His hand rested in the small of her back. He could very well feel how her soft curves accommodated perfectly next to his body. Now that he was aware of her presence, he realized the warmth he felt was actually coming out of her nude body.

She was gorgeous; he couldn’t deny it. And he had indeed enjoyed their encounter. As a matter of fact, now that his senses were very much awake, something else, just below his waist, was also waking up just by the knowledge of her being right next to him.

Suddenly Harry realized what had just happened. He had taken Hermione to bed! Of course, he didn’t force her - she seemed quite willing to go for it - but he could have stopped things from getting this far.

A swirl of ides came to his mind as a stampede of wild animals. Trying his best not to wake her, she looked to be sleeping quite peacefully, he slowly moved her arm aside. Now all he had to go was take her off of him. Easier said than done…

He placed his one free hand on her shoulder and tried to push her off, but it wasn’t quite working. He had to raise his upper body to slowly roll her off. Fortunately for Harry, she simply moaned and turned away, giving him her back and quite a nice sight as well.

Trying to ignore such… thing, he quickly got out of bed, sighing in relief. He stood there for a while, looking at her sleep. He would’ve never even dreamed to have her, his childhood friend, in this situation.

“What the hell did I do?” he asked himself, closing his eyes and passing a hand through his messy hair.

Without giving it more thought, he took some clean clothes out of his wardrobe and exited the room. He needed to get out of there. He needed to order the thoughts in his mind.

It was still very early in the morning and the streets were quiet. Slowly, he started walking away from the house, not paying much attention to the direction his feet were taking him to.

He could not get out of his mind the image of Hermione and him making love, as if he’d be seeing it from an outside point.

“How did this happen? How did we let it go this far?”

But he wasn’t able to respond his own questions. He was out of words. “Okay, think Potter! Well… she came into the kitchen, realized I was injured and offered to help me out,” he thought as he was walking across an empty park.

“Then how did we go from there to my bed?”

And then he remembered. He had kissed her! He took her face in his hands and he kissed her. “But why did I… how could I…” His mind was once again blocked. The idea of kissing Hermione had never, not even once, crossed his mind before.

That was, of course, until the day they had no other choice but to kiss, at their wedding that is. He had been obligated to meet a certain expectation before the people witnessing the ceremony. It had just been a requirement he was supposed to do.

But he had enjoyed it. He even had wanted it to be longer than it had.

If Aunt Betty’s fake cough hadn’t interrupted them, they could’ve had a real good make out session right there. Why, she didn’t seem to put up any resistance either. She had in fact responded to the kiss, just as she did the night before.

But why?

In a way, his reaction was somewhat understandable. Almost any red-blooded man who had not been with a woman for a few weeks would get a little excited when a lovely young lady comes before him and acts all seductive.

"Seductive?" he asked himself. "He was only taking care of your wounds, you pervert!" a little voice in his head reminded him.

His mind was just not processing things. He had been walking for more than an hour and he needed some help to sort this out. Before Harry realized it, his feet had taken him to Lupin’s flat.

He knocked at the door and waited. He had to knock a couple of times more before the door was finally opened. A puffy-eyed Lupin looked at him in surprise.

“Harry! What’s wrong?” he quickly asked after looking Harry’s troubled expression.

Without answering Lupin’s question, Harry walked in and went straight to the kitchen. “You want some coffee?” he yelled out to Lupin, who was just closing the door.

“Sure…” responded Lupin in a barely audible voice while rubbing his eyes, hoping to rid the sleep off. Tightening his night robe around his pajamas, Lupin slowly made his way into the kitchen and dropped his body tiredly on a chair.

He had barely sat down when Harry placed a steaming mug before him. Hoping the coffee would help him to wake up, he raised his mug and brought it up to his lips. If the caffeine didn’t wake his senses, the burning sensation he felt when the boiling liquid touched his tongue surely did.

"Merlin's beard! Harry, are you trying to kill me?"

"Sorry," said an embarrassed Harry. "I didn't notice it was too hot."

"Yeah, I can see that!" Lupin replied looking at Harry's untouched cup. Then, his eyes traveled up to the young wizard's troubled expression and his tone changed. "I reckon after being woken up in the worst of ways, I deserve to know what it's going on."

Harry looked up at him. Sure, that's why he had come here, to get some advice from a wiser man, but somehow the words seemed tied in Harry's throat. He swallowed hard, but it didn't help much.

Harry let out a sigh, and opened his mouth to talk. "It's just that... I, uh..."

"Will you just tell me!" said Lupin. "If you came knocking at my door at 7:30 in the morning, on Sunday! I'm sure it's because something important is troubling you. Now, go on... I'm listening."

"Well... it's Hermione," he finally said. Harry kept quiet for a few seconds thinking that perhaps Lupin was going to throw some questions at him. But Lupin was not making thing easy for Harry, he remained silent waiting for him to continue.

"We, Hermione and me, uh... we consumed... our marriage." Harry expected a look of surprise in Lupin's face, but it never came. Thinking that perhaps Lupin didn't understand him, he rephrased himself.

"We slept together... last night!"

Calmly, as if they were talking about the weather, Lupin grabbed his mug and, before making sure it wasn't boiling anymore, brought it up to his lips.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" pressed Harry.

"Well, it doesn’t surprise me," he simply said after placing his mug back down on the table.

"It doesn't? It doesn't... I just told you that Hermione and I slept together, and I don't mean sleeping as in you know... sleeping, but actually... well, you know what I mean. And you tell me you're not surprised?" asked a bewildered Harry.

"Harry," said Lupin as he leaned back in his chair. "You are two young people that... you know, happen to be married. It's only natural."

Harry stood up no longer being able to sit still. "But this is not a normal thing! Hermione and I don't have a normal marriage!" He started pacing around the kitchen, making exaggerated movements with his hands as he talked.

"I don't even know where the bloody hell all that came from? I mean... Hermione is supposed to be in love with this other bloke." He then turned to face Lupin. "You know Hermione... She's not the kind of woman who likes to… sleep around..."

Harry focused his eyes on the floor as he passed a shaky hand through his hair. "But last night... she was so... I mean, where did that come from?" he said more talking to himself rather than to Lupin.

"I'm afraid I can't help you there Harry." He said standing up as well. "You see," he added looking at Harry's questioning stare. "I'm afraid to say that I do not have as much experience dealing with the opposite sex as I'd like. I'm sorry to say it, but... that's definitely not my area of expertise."

Harry smiled at that.

"And as far as I've heard, few men, if there's actually any at all, can consider themselves as experts," said Lupin as he started to prepare some toast. "The female mind is not easy to understand."

Then, looking more intently at Harry he asked him. "Why did you do it? Besides... you know, lust."

Harry’s face seemed to gain a little color, but he held Lupin’s strong gaze. After a while, he replied. “I, uh… I don’t think it was just… that.” Then looking at Lupin’s expression, he quickly added. “Don’t ask me how I know that, because I haven’t the slightest idea. I… I am so confused!”

“And… Sally?”

“That’s why I’m confused,” he replied turning away. “But I do know one thing, never, in all the times I was with Sally, I felt this… this way, the way I felt last night. It was so… different!”

“You know Harry,” said Lupin as he was resuming his seat at the table. “I knew you and Sally wouldn’t get married.”

Harry turned quickly to face him. “Did you know about…?”

“No, of course not! I had no idea of the secrets she was keeping.” He took a sip of his coffee and continued. “I just knew the two of you weren’t meant to be together.” By the puzzled look in Harry, Lupin explained himself.

“Think about it, Harry. As far I remember from what you told me about your relationship with her, most of the time you two spent together, well… you were… in bed. But Harry, did she ever tell you about her dreams and hopes? Did she tell you about her childhood days? Do you know what frightens her the most? Did she ever make you laugh?”

Harry pondered Lupin's words for a while. "And why didn't you say anything to me?" Harry quickly asked.

"Because I was almost sure that Sally wouldn't say yes to your proposal," replied Lupin. "Besides, would you have paid any attention to me if I were to tell you that?"

Harry remained silent for a few minutes. Lupin was right, but that made him feel even more confused. Had he been kidding to himself this whole time thinking he was in love with Sally? But he wasn’t able to answer his own question, Lupin’s voice interrupted him.

“What did Hermione say to you this morning?” Harry quickly looked up at the man before him, but said nothing.

“You did talk to her before coming to see me, right?” asked Lupin in a soft voice, but looking at Harry’s expression he could tell he hadn’t. “You didn't? You left without talking to her!?

Harry simply nodded his head.

“Well, I’m surely no expert, but I reckon that wasn’t the smartest thing to do.” Harry closed his eyes and rubbed his temple. “Leaving her like that, after you two… She’s going to be as confused as you are. And what’s worse,” Harry quickly opened his eyes at this. “She’s going to think exactly what you don’t want her to think.”

9. A Letter

Hermione’s eyes refused to open up. She had just woken up a few minutes before, but her mind was still clouded. Suddenly, her eyes went wide open as the memory of last night’s events came into focus.

Quickly, she turned to her side expecting to find a certain messy-haired wizard next to her, but he wasn’t there.

Hermione sighed. “Well,” she thought. “At least, he saved me the awkwardness of waking up next to him.” A shy smile came to her lips. She could not believe what had happened.

Harry and her…

But she had enjoyed it, perhaps more than she was supposed to. “We’re just friends!” she told herself. “Friends don’t sleep with each other.”

“But…” said another voice in her head. “You’re also married to him.”

“If you can call that… married!”

Hermione shook her head, trying to ignore the voices in her head. She took a deep breath and relaxed her body in the comfortable bed. A few minutes went by, and then she started to wonder where Harry could be.

The door leading to the bathroom was wide open, which only meant he wasn’t there. She tried to strain her ears for any noises outside the bedroom. She wondered if Harry could’ve gone to the kitchen.

“Perhaps he’s fixing us some breakfast,” she thought.

Deciding to go join him, she threw the blankets aside. Her face blushed when she realized she was totally naked. Fighting a fit of giggles, she searched the floor for the shirt Harry had taken off of her. Once she put it on, she walked out of the room.

She sure was glad Dobby had stayed over at Hogwarts.

When Hermione finally made her way into the kitchen, she found it was empty. “Where can he be?” she thought. She walked back to the main hallway and called his name out. There was no answer. He was gone.

She went back to his room. The dirty clothes he had on last night were scattered in the floor, just as hers. Then, she saw something she hadn’t noticed before. His wardrobe was open. Slowly, she went to the bed and sat at the edge.

She didn’t know what to think. This was even more surprising to her than what had happened the night before.

“Why did he leave like this? Why didn’t he wait?” she thought.

Her mind was desperately trying to explain his behavior. She thought that perhaps he had been called to the Ministry. After all, he had just come back form a mission. Perhaps the mission wasn’t even over yet. But if that was the case, he could’ve woken her up to let her know or at least write her a note.

“What if he didn’t have time?” she asked herself, but quickly pushed that idea aside. If he had had time to get dressed, he surely could’ve woken her up to tell her he had to leave.

No. That definitely wasn’t his reason for leaving. It had to be something else.

Then, another thought came to her mind. “Of course,” she said as she slapped her forehead. “He regrets it! He saw me sleeping next to him and he didn’t want to stay and face the situation. He regrets what happened between us.”

She stood up and turned to face the bed where she had been in Harry’s arms. As she stood there, tears filled up her eyes. She grabbed hold of the poster next to her and swallowed the lump in her throat, trying her best to hold the tears in.

“He must’ve felt horrified to run away like this. He didn’t even want to see me.”

A sob escaped from her chest, but she quickly placed a hand over her mouth. “Alright then,” she thought as she wiped away a tear that had escaped her eyes. “If he doesn’t want to see me… then he won’t.”

She went to her room, got dressed and, as quickly as she could, gathered her things and disapparated out of there.

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By the time Harry got back to his house, Hermione was gone. If he could, he would’ve kicked himself. He was such an idiot. Focusing in his own confusion didn’t let him see that Hermione was bound to feel the same way.

And now she was gone.

Lupin was right. She was going to think the worst of him and he couldn’t blame her. He would feel the same way. Unfortunately, if things had already been messed up, he had messed them even more by disappearing like that.

He slowly walked around the room, taking in the details. His bed was undone, the sheets all wrinkled. Their clothes still littered the floor. One by one, he began to pick up the garments. A smile came to his face as he noticed they were all over the place.

Then walking to the other side of his bed, he saw something black in the floor: Hermione's delicate, little thong. He looked at the it for a while. Finally, her grabbed it. The lace felt so soft in his hands.

Unconsciously, he closed his eyes bringing the garment to his nose as the image of her wearing that delicious item came to his mind. Suddenly, his eyes opened wide as he realized what he was doing. He quickly extended his arm to open the drawer of the night stand near him and threw the item there.

He stepped away, taking a deep breath, and wiping his suddenly-sweating forehead as if he had just survived a terrifying ordeal. He then realized was going to need a cold shower.

Minutes later, he seemed to have regained control of himself. Harry knew he should just go to her house, talk to her and explain why he had left like that. But there was something stopping him.

“And what the hell am I going to tell her?” he thought. Nothing would come to his mind. Talking to Lupin hadn’t done much for him. He still felt quite confused and troubled.

He had just decided he’d go to see her after taking a much needed shower when he heard some soft knocks on his window. Turning his face, he saw a grayish owl flying outside his window.

Quickly, he hurried over to open the window for him. Búho, the owl, belonged to the young Auror he usually was partnered with on abroad missions. Harry untied the note Búho delivered and ripped the envelope open.

“Damn it!”

Something had come up. They had left a few things pending last night and Harry was supposed to meet Victor in an old, dirty pub in the filthiest part of the city. He didn’t have time to stop at Hermione’s first because he just knew a conversation with her was going to require more than just a few minutes.

He let out a sigh, not quite admitting to himself that he was glad to have an excuse to avoid seeing her. He just wasn’t ready for that.

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Later that night, Hermione was sitting on a bench in her backyard patio. She had waited for Harry all day long, but he hadn’t shown up. She had hoped that a part of him would make him come talk to her.

It hurt her to see that he didn’t have the guts to face her. They were supposed to be friends, to trust each other, to feel confident enough to accept when they’d made a mistake.

Hermione stood up, looking up at the full moon. It was such a beautiful night, but Hermione couldn’t enjoy it at that moment.

Even when she was upset with Harry’s attitude, she somehow understood him.

She had tried all morning to explain to herself how on earth they had ended up in bed. What force had pulled them together like that? Especially, when they didn’t feel anything for each other. Or… did they?

Hermione had fancied Harry before. Then again, who wouldn’t? He was a good-looking young man, who happened to be the famous Boy-Who-Lived, the powerful wizard that had rid humanity of the threat Lord Voldemort represented. He was strong, courageous, loyal, intelligent, funny… No woman in her right mind could be able to resist such a charming man.

Hermione had always used those excuses to explain to herself why it was natural for her to feel some attraction towards her best friend. Eventually, she pushed those thought aside and decided to focus on their friendship only.

Besides at that time, Harry had just started his career as Auror and Hermione hers as a writer. There were many other important things to take care of than such nonsense. As the years went by, their lives took them through different paths forcing them to be away from each other often for months at a time.

And then, Charles came back into her life.

Charles had changed a lot since the last time Hermione had seen him. He was educated, intelligent, such a gentleman, always polite with everybody. Once again, Hermione found herself feeling pulled to another charming man.

When she found out Charles was getting married to Sally, she got very upset. But what was the real reason? Was it the fact that Charles was marrying someone else or was it Sally’s betrayal?

Now that she was thinking about it, she realized that the thought of Charles being with someone else - whoever the someone would be - no longer hurt her. She could now see that what she had thought was love for Charles in reality was only admiration. She was impressed by the imposing figure of the man before her.

The truth was that Hermione felt alone. During all those years, she had focused solely in her career - something she didn’t regret. She had been able to make a name for herself and had even been able to buy a little house. A place she could call her own.

Seeing Charles treating her with such regard made her feel special, wanted. She had forgotten what it felt like to be admired by a guy. To feel the color rising to her cheeks and the butterflies tickling her stomach when a guy would tell her she looked nice.

She had been so anxious to be in love and mostly to be loved, she had tricked her own mind into thinking she was in love with Charles. And she had focused all her energy into believing that.

But now Harry had waken up feelings she thought were long gone. She realized she had only been kidding herself. Those feelings had never really left or disappeared, as she thought.

They had been waiting patiently, deep inside her, to be released.

The time Harry kissed her at their wedding something had woken up inside, but she ignored it. She didn’t want to admit it. But now that she had been in his arms, that she had been his, she couldn’t deny it.

The worst part of it all was that Harry didn’t feel the same way. Sure he had spent a night with her, but that didn’t mean he had any feelings for her. That night had been just about… well, she wasn’t sure how that had actually happened.

She knew it had not been out of love, at least not from Harry’s part. He had been in a very susceptible state of mind, with the events of the previous days and his physical injuries that he had no control over his actions at that moment.

She did. She had total knowledge of what was unfolding at that time, but had decided to ignore it. If there was anybody to blame, for sure it was her. For that reason, she had hoped that Harry would come; to let him see that she didn’t blame him for anything.

But he didn’t come. Hermione knew that if Harry didn’t want to see her was because he didn’t want to admit to her face that their encounter had meant nothing to him. He didn’t want to be in the position where he’d have to say he didn’t have any feelings for her, not in that way.

----------------------------------

That Sunday night, at the same time Hermione was sadly looking at the moon, Harry also contemplated the same beautiful night sky. The difference was that he was miles away from London, in the beautiful city of Dublin, Ireland.

Thanks to a last minute tip they had received from one of their underground contacts, Harry and Victor had been able to find the hideout of Mr. Lamarcus, the wanna-be Voldemort that had caused them so much trouble lately.

Knowing a few tricks with his wand and having some muggle bullies on his side had made Lamarcus believe he could outsmart the Aurors. He had not been the first one to hire muggles to hunt Aurors down.

Since Aurors, as any other witch or wizard, were not allowed to use magic against muggles, people like Lamarcus often sent muggles to “teach the Aurors a lesson.” However, they didn’t know that Aurors had to take physical combat as part of their training.

Harry was leaning on the wall, looking out the window of the hotel room where he was staying. He sure was glad this Lamarcus ordeal was finished. They just had to transfer him to headquarters for processing, submit the not-very-fun-to-do paperwork, and it would be over.

He was anxious to get some free time and take care of the unfinished business he had pending with Hermione.

-------------------------------

That moment finally came on Tuesday. Harry got up early and took a long shower. He was preparing himself for what seemed like a battle. He was almost certain Hermione was going to be fuming at him, with fair reason.

When he finally made it to her cozy, little house in a muggle neighborhood, Harry stood at her front door for a few seconds. Taking a deep breath, he pressed the doorbell button. A couple minutes later, Harry heard footsteps approaching.

Then, the door opened. They both looked into the other‘s eyes and remained quiet for a while. Finally, Harry seemed to regain the ability to speak.

“Can I come in?” he asked softly.

For all answer, she stepped aside. After two long days of waiting for him, she didn’t know what to say to him now that he was there. They went into the kitchen as Hermione offered him something to drink.

Hermione busied herself pouring homemade lemonade into two glasses. Harry, not able to stay still, was pacing around the kitchen island. She came up brining the glasses and placed them on the island.

Trying to push the inevitable talk as further as possible, Harry took a few sips at his drink, quietly. Hermione sat on a stool and motioned Harry to do the same. Out of politeness, he imitated her.

“How you’ve been?” he asked to break the awkward silence.

Hermione responded with a simple, “Fine.”

“Oh, Merlin!” Harry thought. “This is going to be harder than I thought. Hermione’s not going to make things any easier for me.” He took her silence for anger or resentment.

That was not the reason for her silence, though. In reality, she was out of words, something not so common on her. Besides, she wanted to hear what he had to say first before saying anything.

“I hadn’t been able to see you,” he finally said. “This last mission got kind of complicated, I reckon you were able to see that Saturday night,” he said pointing at his now healed right hand.

At the mention of Saturday night, a slight change of color in Hermione’s face happened. To hide it, Hermione quickly grabbed her glass and brought it up to her lips.

“The thing is,” he continued talking, not quite meeting her eyes. “…I’ve been very busy this last two days. I wanted to come sooner to see you but we got a…”

At that precise moment, the doorbell rang. Hermione immediately got up, glad with the interruption, but didn’t notice that Harry had followed her into the hallway. She opened the door and found an old, chubby man with a briefcase and a clipboard in his hands.

“Miss Hermione Granger?” the man asked, reading her name from the clipboard.

“Yes?” she replied, not sure of who this man was or were he was coming form. Looking at his attire, she could tell he was a muggle.

“I have a letter for you,” the man informed her. He pulled his briefcase open and extracted a white envelope. He made some scribbling into his clipboard then handed it to Hermione. “Could you sign here?” he said pointing at a line.

Hermione took the clipboard, but before signing it she asked the messenger who the letter was from. Making a sound of frustration, as if answering her would make him fall behind in his busy schedule. He looked at the letter still in his hands and read the senders’ name.

“Mr. Charles Kensington.”

“Oh!” was all Hermione could say. She hurried to sign her name, after the messenger began to top his polished shoe on the floor, and handed the clipboard back to him. Before she could say thank you, the messenger was gone.

She closed the door and turned around to find Harry staring at her. His expression had totally changed. When he had arrived at her house, he seemed relaxed and willing to talk. Now his eyes were fuming and he seemed upset.

Ignoring him, she started walking back towards the kitchen, but he was blocking her way.

“Charles sent you a letter,” he said in a sarcastic way, as if she didn’t already know that. Hermione said nothing.

“You want to tell me how is it that when he’s supposed to be enjoying his honeymoon, he finds time to write you a letter?” But he wasn’t really expecting her to answer him. He immediately threw another question at her.

“And can you explain to me why this idiot addresses a letter to you as Miss Hermione Granger? He knows perfectly well that you are now Mrs. Hermione Potter. He was the one that got us married in the first place!”

Hermione had remained silent, looking at the angry man before her. All of a sudden his attitude had changed. He was once again the sarcastic, ironic man she had seen at Sally's wedding.

"Well?" he urged her to respond.

"I don't know," she finally said. "What could make his attitude change?" she thought. "I reckon hearing Charles' name reminded him of Sally and what she did to him."

She sighed and made a move to leave, but Harry was not done.

"Why is he writing to you? Aren't you going to read the letter?" he said grabbing Hermione by her upper arm.

"I'll read it later," she said. "And I have no idea why he's writing to me, but if what you want to know is if it says anything about Sally, I'm not going to tell you."

She pulled away out of his grip and took a couple steps away from him. It angered her to see that thanks to Sally's doing Harry had turned into his angry person she didn't like much. Harry turned his back on her and seemed to be trying to calm himself. Suddenly, he turned to face her.

"You know what… we'd better leave this for other time." He walked to the door and before leaving he looked at her one last time. "I'll see you around."

Hermione was pretty sure that wasn't going to be anytime soon.

10. Unexpected Visitor

Harry woke up sweating. Two days had passed since he had gone to see Hermione. He sat up on his bed, brushing away the sweat-wet fangs glued to his forehead. Reaching for a goblet sitting on his night stand, he drank some water.

He threw the covers aside and walked to the window and opened it wide. The cool night breeze helped him to normalize his breathing and slow down his thoughts.

He had been dreaming about Hermione. They had been, just like a few nights ago, in his bed, enveloped in each other’s arms, kissing with so much passion that it had felt so real to him. But suddenly, Charles had entered the room. He had just called Hermione’s name and she immediately pushed Harry away and ran to him.

Harry had made an effort to call her, but his voice was gone. In seconds, Hermione had disappeared with Charles and Harry had been left behind, alone.

With the images of his dream still in his head, Harry started pacing around. He couldn’t understand all the mixed emotions he had been feeling the past few days. Things seemed so confusing.

It upset him to know that Charles still had contact with Hermione. "What is he trying to do? What the bloody hell was in that letter?" he kept asking himself.

She had seemed surprised by the letter, but that didn't mean anything. Would Charles want to see her? "If that's the case," he thought. "She sure is going to be jumping with joy. She's crazy about him. That's why she agreed quietly to his false marriage. Just because he said it and to keep him happy."

Then, he stopped and turned his face to the drawer where he had thrown Hermione's... thing.

"Then, why did she responded to me in that way?" he wondered remembering their night together. "To drive you crazy!" said a sarcastic voice in his head. "Isn't she Sally's cousin after all. They're witches! They know how to drive a man crazy."

Shaking his head to rid it of those thoughts, he walked back to his bed and sat down. "Lupin's right! A woman's mind is hard to understand."

-----------------------------

That Friday, Harry was not being able to concentrate in his work. Victor and him were writing up the report to finally put an end to the Lamarcus situation. Moody was expecting it on his desk in a couple of hours.

But Harry's mind was far away.

Hermione and that dammed letter had been in his mind all day. What upset him the most was not knowing; not knowing what the letter said and not knowing her reaction to it.

He had been so distracted in his thoughts, he had paid little attention to Victor’s comments.

“Oh, man!” said Harry’s partner. “You sure are in deep shit!”

Surprisingly, Harry had heard Victor's last words and looked questioningly at him. “What do you mean?” Harry hoped he hadn’t gotten himself in trouble for not paying attention to the blasted report.

“It’s written all over you face, Harry. You’re in love!” replied Victor with a big grin in his perfectly-shaved face.

Harry quickly stood up as if Victor’s words had pinched him in his bottom. “I’m… I’m not! Where did you get such a stupid idea?” he asked in a defensive tone.

Victor lay back in his chair lazily. “Like I said man, it’s written in your face. Besides, only a woman can turn a man into a walking zombie.” Once again, that goofy grin appeared on Victor’s face. “And you sure have been walking in clouds lately.”

Harry decided not to answer him. “Victor has no idea what’s going on in my head,” Harry thought. He was not going to waste his time arguing with him, when Victor obviously was not going to listen to him.

Finally, he sat back down and brought the conversation back to the report. To his luck, it was finished. All that was needed to complete it was both their signatures. Trying to get it done with and be able to leave, Harry grabbed the parchment from Victor’s hands and signed it.

“Hey man, you want to get a couple of drinks tomorrow night?” asked Victor as Harry was signing.

“Yeah, sure,” replied Harry, not really paying attention to him, and walking out of the office before Victor would call him back again.

--------------------------------------------------

The following day, Hermione was in a nice café in downtown London waiting for Charles. They had agreed to meet there for lunch. In the letter he had sent her, he asked her to please meet him. He had something very important to talk to her about. Not having any real excuses to say no, Hermione had accepted.

Exactly at noon, Charles arrived. His expression had changed since the last time Hermione had seen him. His arrogant figure did not look as always had. He seemed to have aged a couple of years in just two weeks. His gray eyes were dark and troubled, his tall body hunched.

Quietly he sat down. Hermione greeted him, but seeing his attitude remained quiet after that. They ordered their lunch as the waiter had arrived. Minutes after their drinks were placed on the table, he seemed ready to talk.

“I feel terribly Hermione.” She could see that. Not meeting her eyes, he continued. “I’ve made the two biggest mistakes of my life, and the worst part is that I dragged you in it.”

Hermione looked down, but said nothing.

“My life is a nightmare! I’m married to somebody I don’t even know.” Hermione looked up at him. “Sally,” he continued. “She’s… so different from what I thought. She’s become frivolous, materialistic, selfish… perhaps she had always been that way. I just never really saw it until now.”

“Charles…” Hermione tried to interrupt, but he raised his hand to make her stop.

“I’ve… I’ve asked her about that note I found the day after our wedding,” he said looking into Hermione’s eyes, trying to see into her mind. “I’ve asked her about Harry… and about you. She has not really admitted it, but I know the note was for her. I reckon I always knew it, but I was not ready to believe it.”

Hermione knew how it felt to be fooled in that way. She too had thought that Sally was still the sweet, fun person she once knew. Unfortunately, she had been wrong. Her cousin had turned into someone completely different.

“I know that I put you and your friend in a very difficult situation and I know there’s nothing I can say to fix it, but…”

Hermione placed her soft hand on top of Charles to comfort him. In this whole situation, he had been perhaps the mostly affected. “It’s alright Charles, really. Harry and I have been good friends for years.” Though we’re not in talking terms, right now – she thought.

“We went along with Sally’s lie because we thought it was the best thing to do at that moment.” She retrieved her hand as the food arrived. After the waiter left, she continued. “I personally wanted to keep Aunt Betty out of all this mess. You know how sick she’s been lately. But I want you to know that I never approved what Sally was doing. I just thought it was not my place to get in the middle of you two.”

A sad smile appeared in Charles’ face. “You knew sooner or later the real Sally would come out, right?” Hermione looked down.

She felt sorry for him. He was a nice man and didn’t deserve been treated like that. Seeing how belittled he looked now, Hermione could hardly believe she had placed her eyes on him before. At least, knowing that he was aware of the truth made her feel better. Especially because Hermione didn’t have to tell on her cousin.

After that, Charles seemed to relax a little, though his sad expression remained. He was glad to see that Hermione didn’t resent him for pushing her into an unwanted marriage.

-----------------------------------------

Later that day, Victor apparated before Harry’s door and knocked. Minutes later, Harry opened the door for him. A look of surprise came to Harry's face after seeing his partner, standing there.

“Please, don’t tell me something came up and we have to get going,” said Harry quickly.

“You forgot!” said Victor walking around Harry and into the hallway. Harry still waiting for his answer didn’t move form the door. “I told you if you wanted to join me for drinks, remember?”

Harry did remember Victor saying something to him as he was leaving, but hadn’t really paid attention to him.

“I’m telling you! She’s got you in the clouds man,” he said with a big smile on his face, as he started walking towards the kitchen. “Just go get ready. I’ll just go find something to eat. This elf of yours makes such good pastries…”

Harry sighed. He had no other choice, but to go upstairs and get in the shower. About fifteen minutes later, he turned the water off and walked into his room. He took out a pair of jeans and a shirt from his wardrobe without paying much attention to the items he was taking.

Finally, he walked to the door. As he was about to step into the hallway, he saw Victor sitting in the hallway’s floor, his back leaning on the wall, enjoying some of Dobby’s pumpkin pastries.

Once Harry opened the door, Victor got up quickly. “Hey man,” he said after swallowing the food in his mouth. “A girl came to see you.” Victor informed him. “I told her to come in.”

One name immediately came to Harry’s mind, Hermione, and his face illuminated.

Seeing his happy expression, Victor smiled. “She’s waiting downstairs.” Then as Harry was walking away from him, he added, "Good thing you showered!"

Hurriedly, Harry went to the stairs without paying attention to Victor. But when he reached the bottom step, he froze on the spot. The woman waiting for him was not Hermione. It was Sally.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in a not so friendly way.

Sally, who had been curiously looking at the decors on the walls, turned to face Harry. She quickly came up to him and threw her arms around his neck. “Harry! It’s great to see you.”

He pulled her arms off of him and pushed her away. He didn’t want to have any physical contact with her at all. Then, a question came to his mind.

“How… how did you know where to find me?” This was the first time Sally was at his house. They had always met at her apartment.

“It’s amazing what you can do when you have the resources,” she said with a mischievous smile on her face.

He sighed. “Of course…”

Ignoring his cold attitude towards her, she went on talking. “These last days had been terrible! Charles is so boring, you have no idea. If it weren’t for those wonderful boutiques they have in Paris…”

“What the hell are you doing here?” he interrupted.

Sally raised a well-defined eyebrow at him. She didn’t like being talked to like that, but smiled to him regardless. “Oh, we’re still mad now, aren’t we?” She talked to him in her sweetest voice and tried to caress his face, but Harry grabbed her wrist and pushed her away.

“C’mon Harry. We both know you missed me.” Harry threw her the coldest look. “I sure missed you,” she added. “Being Charles’ wife has not been as exciting as I thought it would be. Especially since he started with this whole divorce talk, but I’ve been thinking…”

Sally was not able to complete her sentence. Harry grabbed her by the upper arms. “What divorce?” he asked.

“You’re hurting me!” She responded to him with a childish voice

Reluctantly, he loosened his grip on her, but didn’t let go. “Talk!” he demanded.

“Alright! Charles wants me to give him a divorce,” she informed him. After hearing that, Harry let go of her. He didn’t like what he heard. “He’s been saying the same thing to me over and over again for the last week. A bit boring to tell you the truth.”

“What did you say to him?” he quickly asked.

At first, Sally thought Harry wanted to know if she was going to be free again, but the look on his face told her otherwise. “I have ignored him, as always.”

Harry walked a few steps away from her. “So that’s why he sent her the letter,” he said talking to himself. Sally, however, was still close to him and heard him perfectly.

“Which letter? Who sent who a letter?”

“Charles,” said Harry turning back to face her. “Charles sent a letter to Hermione just a few days ago.” He turned away and continued talking to himself, out loud. “Obviously, he was letting her know about it! I wonder if he asked her to do the same.”

Sally looked questioningly at him.

“So what?” she asked. “Harry, listen,” she said changing her voice. “If he’s so interested in getting a divorce, I’m sure he’s going to be willing to give me anything I ask for. So… in a couple of months, perhaps even less, I’ll be free once again. And… I’ll have plenty of money, and will need someone to enjoy it with.”

Harry had hardly heard her last words, but her attitude spoke for her. Feeling disgusted with her presence, Harry started pushing her to the door. “Good bye Sally.”

“Wait! Let’s talk,” But Harry was not listening. He opened the door and pushed her out. “Harry please, let me just explain to you…”

But Harry didn’t hear her anymore. He closed the door at her and walked away.

“So, he’s going to be free,” he thought. “I’m sure Hermione’s going to be dying to get our divorce ready as well.” He didn’t know why, but it angered him. He couldn’t understand why idiots like Charles were so lucky to have women like Hermione love them.

But what angered him the most was that as soon as Charles called her name, Hermione was ready to run to him. Harry could just imagine her coming to talk to him about getting a divorce and that thought alone hurt him.

Why was it that all the women in his life wanted to be with Charles, the gentleman?

But he quickly decided he didn’t want to know. He didn’t care. If Hermione wanted to ran to that idiot’s arms that was her problem. He wasn’t going to get in the way, but he wasn’t going to give her the pleasure of being the one ending their marriage – even a fake marriage.

No. If they were going to get a divorce, which he now knew was inevitable, he was going to be the one doing it. He’d be the one putting an end to this farce.

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.

………………………………............................................................................

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.

----------------------------------------

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?”

A/N: Some of you actually remembered! The song was “Don’t Turn Around” by Ace of Base. I still have that cassette - I hope you all know what a cassette is, right? Or maybe I should say was. They’re almost obsolete.

Anyhow, here’s something you’ve been waiting for. I’m sure the chappie’s title will give you a hint as of what’s coming up. And as always, thank you all for taking the time to write a review. I sure appreciate them. J

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12. Making Peace

Harry walked to the beach. He had looked for Hermione inside the beach house, but she wasn’t there. Since the sliding glass door that led to the beach was wide open, he reckoned she’d be out there.

As he started walking, he could see her further ahead. She was lying in the sand. He stood there for a while, pondering whether to go up to her or not. Finally, he decided to close the gap between them. He had already come all this way to talk to her; he wasn‘t going to walking away at the last minute.

Slowly, he continued walking towards her. As he was getting closer, he noticed something that made him swallow hard. She was wearing a red two-piece bathing suit. He had never seen her wearing something like that before.

He shook his head. “Focus Potter! Focus!” he told himself. “Sure…,” he replied to himself in a mocking way.

Finally, he reached the spot where her lean body rested placidly on the warm sand. Unconsciously, he ran his eyes over her body. Her skin had a wonderful golden tan and a healthy glow. He could very well remember how soft her skin had felt under his touch.

Thinking she was sleeping, he took the opportunity to admire her curves. Flashes of their night together started to invade his mind. Suddenly she stirred and took her sunglasses off.

“Harry, what are you doing here?”

Harry cleared his throat, pushing those memories aside and quickly put on his defensive mask. “This is what you wanted, isn’t?” he asked in a sarcastic way. “That I’d come looking for you!”

Hermione quickly stood up. She had no idea what Harry was talking about. A little voice inside her said, “Well, I did… kind of want him to come looking for me,” she thought as he turned away from her, his hands on his waist. “But not to be mad at him!”

He was trying hard to keep his firm angry posture before her, but seeing her in that wonderful two-piece didn’t let him think straight. “C’mon Potter! You can do it,” he cheered himself on. “Just keep your balls cool. I mean… your brain cool.”

Hermione was just wondering what he was upset about when she noticed he was looking at her from the corner of his eyes. A half smile appeared on her face. Perhaps he wasn’t as mad as he wanted her to think. Then, he turned around to face her.

“You want to explain to me why you didn’t sign the papers?” he asked, keeping his eyes fixed above her shoulders.

“The papers…”

“The divorce papers. You missed the deadline!” He spat at her. “Why didn’t you respond?”

“I did!” she quickly replied.

Harry raised an eyebrow at her. “You did?” he repeated. “And where are they?”

Hermione replayed in her mind the day she received said papers. She remembered taking the envelope from the lady’s hands, getting into her kitchen, going to her study and signing the papers. “I signed them…” she said. “And then… I, uh…”

Suddenly she remembered. After signing them she had tossed them aside on her desk, trying to forget all about what those papers implied.

“Damn it!” She said smacking her forehead.

Harry was having a desperate struggle with his impulses to keep his eyes focused on her face. Now that she was standing up, Harry had a better view. Even when his gaze was locked in her eyes, his senses were still aware of her barely covered body, her long, slender legs, her round hips, her well-defined waist, her flat stomach, her… well, everything.

As Harry heard her talking again, he forced his mind to concentrate.

“I forgot to send them back,” she said, as she took a few steps away from Harry. He followed her with his eyes. “I did sign them Harry, I did! I just... forgot to return them.” Her voice had gradually lowered to a barely audible level by the end of the sentence.

Harry turned away, giving his back to her. Thinking that he was now really getting upset with her, Hermione walked up to him and placed a hand in his arm. The unexpected physical contact made him jump as if hit by lighting. He quickly took a step back. Hermione, however, had no idea that he had turned away only trying to take his eyes off of her, trying to take a break from such torture.

“Harry,” said Hermione softly. “Why is it that we have to fight every time we see each other? Does it mean that we can’t keep being friends anymore?” She was about to add “now that you’re with Sally,” but she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

Harry looked down for a while and sighed. Then, he looked up, a shy smile on his handsome face. “I’m sorry, Hermione,” he said. His voice had totally changed. No trace of anger left. “I reckon that bloody lawyer just filled my head with stupid ideas.”

He sat down on her towel, his body relaxing as he spoke. “I knew you weren’t interested in getting a bigger allowance. I shouldn’t have listened to her.”

Hermione looked questioningly at him as she sat next to him. “Allowance…”

“Yeah, the monthly allowance I offered you. Of course, it was stated in muggle currency, but you know the equivalence in gold, right?” said Harry. Then, looking at her puzzled expression, he added, “You did read the papers, didn’t you?”

Hermione bit her bottom lip as she slowly shook her head.

“You didn’t! Do you always sign legal documents without reading them?” he asked her in a teasing way.

“No…” she replied softly. “I just…” Hermione could’ve told him that she had not even tried to read the document because it hurt her, but she wasn’t going to admit that to him. “I trust you,” she finally said. “Which is true!” she thought.

Harry smiled at her and then turned his face to admire the sea before them.

“I knew it! It’s just that… the lawyer called me late last night saying that you had missed the deadline. Then I went looking for you,” he turned his head to smile at her. “And nobody knew where the hell you were,” he said half amazed, half irritated. “Not even your parents. They didn’t even know you were not in London.”

Hermione looked down with a smile in her lips. “It’s been a while since I stopped telling my parents about my every move, you know.” Then looking up at him she said, "And... I appreciate your offer, but I don't need you to give me an allowance."

Harry smiled at her. "It's only fair, isn't?"

"Fair? I don't think I even remember what fair is," she said looking away.

They remained quiet for a while, admiring the view and enjoying each other’s company. At last, their friendship seemed to be getting back to normal.

Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder and broke the silence. “I’m sorry, Harry. It was not my intention to cause you so much trouble. I didn’t mean for you to come all the way here looking for me.”

Then, an idea came to her mind. “Which reminds me… how did you know where to find me?”

Harry looked at her, a big grin in his face. “I, uh… well, we, Aurors that is, have… you know, special techniques to… find out people’s whereabouts. Not that I ‘m supposed to be telling you this.”

“And are you supposed to use those special techniques for your personal business?” she asked in what tried to be a serious tone, but totally failed. She grabbed hold of his left wrist and looked at his watch. “11:30 a.m.! Well done, Potter. You found me in… what? Less than twelve hours?”

He simply smiled.

“You know,” she said after a while. “I think you should reconsider asking Moody for some days off. You really need them Harry. You look tired.”

He waved a hand as if to deny such thing. “The last time I asked for days off they didn’t turn out to be as enjoyable as I had expected,” he said not meeting her eyes.

“Yeah,” she said. “You ended up married to me!”

Harry quickly looked at her. “That’s not what I meant.” But the smile on her face told him she was just kidding.

“Hey, how about you stay here today,” she suggested as she hung to his arm. “I can show you around. You’re going to like it. It’s such a wonderful little place.”

Harry thought about it for a while. “Alright. I reckon I can stay here for a while.”

“Good!” she said as she stood up. “Then, I suggest we go grab some lunch first. I’m hungry.” As she was talking, she walked over to where her big beach bag rested on the sand and took out some carefully folded clothes.

“Lunch sound great,” he said as he watched her jump into a denim mini-skirt. “I haven’t eaten since last night. I was about to enjoy my dinner when the blasted lawyer called.” His eyes observed how she put on a white button shirt and his mouth opened as he realized she only did two of the bottom buttons, letting that devilish red top show.

“Damned Hermione!” he thought.

They started walking back to the beach house. Once they were out of the sand, she took out a pair of sandals out of her bag and put them on once she cleaned the sand of her feet.

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Hermione took Harry to the same little restaurant where she had enjoyed her lunch the last days. Harry was pleased to have agreed to stay. He liked the relaxed and quiet atmosphere of the little town.

A tall waiter came to their table and greeted Hermione warmly, "Bonjour Hermione."

"Bonjour Pierre," replied Hermione in perfect French.

"Savez-vous ce que vous aurez aujourd'hui?"

"Oui nous sommes prêts."

Harry stared at Hermione as she talked with the waiter. He had no idea Hermione could speak French so fluently. Hermione smiled at him as the waiter left.

"I ordered us some sandwiches," she said with a smile. Harry smiled back.

“I didn’t know you could speak French. I bet you speak better French that that guy,” he honestly added while looking at her with pride in his eyes.

Before arriving to the French village, Harry had feared to find that Hermione was not there alone. Now, he was more than pleased to see that she was by herself. “Of course that doesn’t mean anything,” he told himself. He was just trying to figure out a way to find out if Charles would be making an appearance later when Hermione broke the silence.

“Did I… cause you any problems for missing the deadline?” she asked without meeting his eyes. She then looked up and found a question mark on his face. “With Sally,” she added to clear things up.

He smiled at her. But instead of responding her question directly, he replied by throwing another question at her.

“How is it that Charles let you missed the deadline? I thought he was going to send one of his messengers to deliver the papers immediately.”

It was now her turn to smile. She shook her head as she let out a sigh. “Seems we've both made wrong assumptions.”

“So you and Charles…”

“Of course not!” she said before he could finish his sentence. “I told you he’s never seen me like anything else but a friend.” She kept quiet for a while, then added. “To be honest with you, I prefer it hat way. I think it would’ve never worked out between us.”

Harry looked right at her. He was glad not only to hear her saying that, but to confirm it in her brown eyes.

Feeling his strong gaze on her, Hermione tried to resume the conversation. “And… I reckon you and Sally aren’t back together, are you?” she said softly.

Harry shook his head. “It’s over between us.” He thought that it was now his turn to be honest. “She went to see me a couple of weeks ago.” He was about to tell her why Sally had gone looking for him, but decided it was best not to. “That’s how I found out that Charles wanted to get divorced.”

“And you thought it was because of me?” she asked just as their lunch arrived.

“Yeah,” he replied after a while. “But I’m glad it’s not like that. I mean… if you’re okay with it.”

Hermione turned to look at two kids who were happily riding their bicycles. “I am.” Then, looking back at him, she added. “I reckon I should thank Sally for that. She helped me to clear out my thoughts.”

“She did the same thing for me, too.” He took a sip at his drink to then speak again. “Can I ask you something, Hermione?”

She nodded yes, and looked at him expectantly.

“Why did you marry me? I mean…” he said playing with his napkin. “You could’ve said something to stop the whole thing. They’re your family after all.”

Hermione thought about it. “Well, sure I could’ve said something, but I wasn’t expecting you to stick around to the end. I thought you were going to be long gone by the time of the ceremony.”

Sure, she had expected him to solve the problem without her having to open her mouth. “Or was I unconsciously wanting to marry him?” she thought. Hermione, of course, didn’t mention that to him.

“Besides,” she quickly added hoping he wouldn’t read her thoughts. “I didn’t want to be the one having to tell on her. It was not my place to say anything.”

“I reckon you’re right.” After all, she had been dragged into the middle of the storm without asking for it.

Finally, Hermione told him all about her Aunt’s condition. She wanted him to understand her reason for not opening her mouth, hoping he wouldn’t think she had hidden reasons to marry him.

It all became clear to Harry know. He should’ve known that Hermione had strong reason for behaving the way she had besides Charles’ peace of mind

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After lunch, Harry and Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon walking around the little town. There were a few antique shops that caught their attention and kept them busy for hours.

When the end of the day was approaching, Hermione dragged Harry back to the beach. She wanted him to experience the peaceful sensation she had enjoyed lately while contemplating the beautiful sunset.

They sat on the sand and remained quiet for a long time; just glad to be there, content to have each other.

"I'm glad to have you back," he said suddenly, placing his hand on top of hers.

She smiled warmly at him. "Me, too."

Harry looked at her brown eyes. They shined with light of the last sun rays, which give them a wonderful glow. Hermione held his gaze for a while until the silence became awkward. She lowered her eyes and locked away. Even a few seconds after she had looked away, she could still feel his eyes on her.

When the sun had completely disappeared under the sea, Harry stood up and stretched a hand out to her to help her get up as well. “I reckon I should get going,” he said softly.

“Now?” she quickly asked, suddenly not wanting to let him go. “And just how are you going to get back to London at this hour?” she asked teasingly. “Don’t tell me you have a portkey hidden in your pocket for such emergencies?”

Harry laughed at that. “Hey, that’s not such a bad idea, you know.”

She slapped him playfully in the arm. “Just wait until they hear about it in the Ministry.” Then, changing her tone to a more serious one, she added, “Why don’t you stay here tonight?”

Harry looked at her intensively, but remained silent for a while.

“There are plenty of rooms in the house,” she added quickly, making an effort to take her eyes off of him.

He still didn’t reply for a while. Apparently, he was giving it some thought. Finally, he spoke. “Alright, I’ll stay here tonight.”

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After Harry agreed to spend the night in the beach house, they headed back. Hermione led him to Alfred's bedroom, Mrs. Welsh’s son. She was pretty sure Harry would fit into Alfred’s clothes since they were about the same size.

“Are you sure this Alfred guy is not going to show up and find me wearing his pajamas?” he asked in a mocking way.

“Of course not,” she said between giggles. “He’s quite busy right now.” Hermione explained to Harry that Alfred and his wife Sophie were expecting their first baby to arrive any day.

After reassuring Harry once more time that it was okay for him to wear those pajamas, Hermione finally said good night to Harry and went into the room she was staying in, right across the hallway.

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It was not easy for Hermione to sleep knowing Harry was just a few steps away from her. She had tried to block him out of her mind, but it wasn’t working. She had spent such a wonderful day with him, walking around town, laughing at the silliest of things. It felt great to know he was not longer mad at her.

She had missed him so much.

But now that she was lying in bed, images of him were invading her thoughts. She could close her eyes and see how the sun had given his raven hair a shiny look while they were having lunch, how the sea breeze had played with his hair, making it messier than usual. A half smile came to her lips as she recognized he still looked so darn cute with his hair like that.

That day, her senses had been completely focused on him, carefully memorizing his every move. Just two weeks ago, she had taken the firm resolution to once again push her feelings aside and bury them as deep as she could.

But it wasn’t going to be that easy this time.

She had tasted his lips. She had touched his skin. Sure, those memories gave her strength to keep going on, to keep breathing. But they also made her want more, need more…

With a sudden idea in her mind, Hermione threw the blankets aside and got out of bed. Quickly, she went to the door and walked out of the room.

A/N: Thought I should let you all know that after this chappie, there’s only going to be one more. I want to thank you all for reading and reviewing this story. Believe it or not, the first chapters sat in my computer for months. I wasn’t sure whether you guys were going to like it or not. I’m glad I finally took the courage to post it. It’s been great to see you actually liked it.

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13. I Need You

Harry was going through a similar agony.

The last two weeks had been very difficult for him. At first, he thought his mind was playing games with him. A repetitive dream was driving him insane. More than a dream, it was more like an image: The image of a beautiful witch with gorgeous chocolate brown eyes and bouncy curls.

In his dream, the image of Hermione wouldn’t do anything, not even talk to him. She’d just walk around, look at him, play with her hair, any nonsense thing. What had Harry on edge was that the Hermione of his dreams would be wearing only one thing, the blasted black thong.

Harry thought he was turning into a perverted lunatic.

The dammed thing still sat in his nightstand's drawer. He hadn’t taken it out afraid of his own reaction to the devilish thing.

“Being with her was such an unexpected thing that my mind is still trying to process it,” he had strongly tried to convince himself But then, why did Hermione continue to invade not only his dreams, but also his thoughts? He could try and place all the blame on his subconscious for dreaming nonstop about her, but what about when he was awake?

There was one more thing he couldn’t explain to himself the – also unexpected – jealousy he felt whenever he thought of Hermione and Charles, or anybody else for that matter. Of course there was the brotherly affection that makes you look critically at your best friend’s boyfriend, but this was totally different.

Was he falling for Hermione? Could that be it? Harry was certain of one thing; he didn’t want her out of his life. He just couldn’t take it.

The three weeks didn’t see Hermione had seemed to him like months, years! He had missed her. He had missed her so much. There had been occasions before when they went months in a row without seeing each other. And he had missed her, yes, but not like this, to the point that it ached him not to have her around.

One question, though, would quickly come to his mind when analyzing his feelings for her. Was one night enough to fall in love?

He was just thinking about that when the door of the room suddenly opened. Harry had been standing by the window, not able to sleep, still wearing his own clothes. He had taken off the shirt he had on earlier, leaving his white cotton undershirt. As soon as he heard the door opening, he turned around.

There was Hermione.

The room was only illuminated with the moonlight that came thought the open window. Still, he could see her quite clearly. She was barefoot wearing a light, soft pink night gown that went down to her middle thigh.

Without saying a word, Hermione walked in and closed the door behind her. She didn’t move for a few seconds, staring at him silently. Finally, she walked up to him.

Harry was speechless. With Hermione standing next to him, he could see how the moonlight reflected on her tanned skin, giving it a soft glow. He loved to see how the breeze played with her curls, which she had down.

But most of all, he could smell her scent. It was intoxicating. Harry closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The most wonderful sensation filled his mind. He then opened his eyes to confirm that in fact she was standing there next to him.

Hermione looked right into his green eyes and tried to tell him with her own eyes just how much he meant to her. She looked at his broad shoulders and his firm chest.

Oh, how much she loved him!

Taking a step closer to him, she broke the silence. “I need you,” she said in a desperate way.

For all response, Harry opened up his arms to her. She quickly went to him and grabbed hold of his shoulders as his arms closed around her waist. She buried her head in his chest and felt how the warmth and the scent of his body invaded her senses.

After a while, Harry took a hand off her waist and placed it under her chin, bringing her face up. They looked right into the other’s eyes. There was no need for words. Their eyes spoke for them.

Slowly, Harry lowered his head and covered her lips with his. Soon after, Hermione’s arms found their way into his raven hair. They kissed each other with so much need. A dance of lips and tongues took place as they tried to get as close as possible. Harry’s hands caressed her bare arms and played with her curls.

The need to breath made them pull apart for a few seconds. But as soon as a little oxygen reached their lungs, they plunged into each other again.

Then, Hermione took a step back from him. Harry was about to pull her back into his arms when he saw her reaching for the hem of her night gown. Slowly, she lifted it up to finally toss it aside.

Harry gasped. Underneath her silky gown, there was nothing else covering her flawless body. He took a few seconds to admire her and take in as much detail as he could.

Finally, the urge to touch her was too much to resist. He took a step forward, encircled her in his arms and kissed her with all he had.

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Hermione’s mind slowly began to wake up, but she refused to open her eyes. She had had the most wonderful dream. She had dreamed about Harry making love to her. She could still feel his hands caressing her body. She could still feel his lips on hers… hang on!

Her eyes suddenly opened wide. She quickly sat up. “It wasn’t a dream!” her mind yelled at her.

She took a look around. She was in Alfred’s bedroom, not in the usual guestroom she’d always occupy. Hermione looked to her side, thinking she’d find Harry there. But he wasn’t.

“It did happen, right?” she asked herself. “It wasn’t a dream.”

She then noticed her night gown on the floor. Her body was only covered by the white sheets. “It did happen! But then, where is he?” she thought.

“Harry?” she called out, but no reply came.

Her breathing started to accelerate. “Calm down,” she told herself. “He might just be in the kitchen.”

With that idea in mind, she wrapped the sheets around her body and left the room. She looked around for him. She even called out his name a couple more times, but he wasn’t in the house.

Hermione stood in the middle of the sitting room, desperately trying to hold back her tears. But the emotion she was filling was too intense; she couldn’t hold them any longer. Her knees gave way as her tears started to roll down.

“Oh god!” she said as she hugged herself. “How could I be so stupid?”

She had been so wrong to think that he could feel the same way. He had left. He had done it again. But it had felt so real to her. His eyes had been so full of emotion. Could she have read it wrong? Could she have made a mistake?

“Then why did he take me?” she thought, but she immediately responded to her own question. “What else could he do? I went into his room and offered it to him.”

Hermione had promised to herself that she wouldn’t cry anymore for him, but she had totally failed. Her whole body started to shake as loud sobs escaped from her mouth.

Suddenly, the glass door that led to the beach opened and Harry walked in. He was wearing one of Alfred’s t-shirts, which was drenched with sweat. His wet fangs stack to his forehead.

As soon as he stepped in, he saw Hermione on the floor, wrapped in a bed sheet, crying. In two steps, he was kneeling at her side.

“Hermione!” he said urgently, grabbing hold of her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

Hearing his voice, Hermione looked up. Harry was there! He hadn’t left! With that realization illuminating her mind, she threw herself into his arms.

“Baby, what is it?” he asked concernedly while he gently stroked her hair.

It took Hermione a few seconds to calm down and regain the ability to speak. “You’re here,” she finally managed to say, though her voice was barely audible.

“Of course, I’m here,” he repeated not sure of what she had meant by that. Then, it dawned on him. “Oh, Mione!” he said as he gently pulled her away to look at her face. “You thought I’d left, didn’t you?”

Hermione didn’t reply. She simply looked down.

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” he said bringing her back into his arms. “I went for a run in the beach.” Hermione pulled away from him.

“I woke up quite early and I thought about going for a run in the beach,” he said as he dried her tears with his fingers. “You were sleeping so peacefully, I… I didn’t have the heart to wake you. I was sure I was going to be back before you’d be up.”

Hermione slowly began to feel how life was coming back to her, but she still needed to clear things out. “So…” she said. “Harry, you…”

“I care about you Hermione,” he interrupted her. “More than you think, more than I even thought. I haven’t been able to take you out of my mind since… well, since that day.”

Hermione looked down with a half smile on her face and a little more color on her cheeks. Of course, she knew which day he was talking about.

“It just took me a while,” he continued. “To realize what I really felt. That day Hermione, I discovered how much I need you, and not just to save my ass when I’m in trouble as I always thought. I need you to breath, to live.”

She smiled at him. Once again, tears started to fill up her eyes. This time, however, it was out of happiness.

“These weeks without you,” he said as he caressed her face. “Have been hell for me not only because I missed you lots but also because I kept dreaming about you and your blasted… thong.”

Soft giggles came out of her mouth. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The emotion that was filling up her heart was too intense that she covered her face with her hands.

“Please, don’t cry anymore,” he quickly said. “I hate to see you like this. And I hate myself for making you go through this.”

Hermione lifted up her face so he could see she wasn’t crying anymore. “I’m just so happy,” she said. “I can’t believe this is true.”

“You’d better believe it,” he added, cupping her face with his hands. “Because you won’t be able to get rid of me anymore.” After that, he placed a soft kiss in her lips. Hermione quickly responded to him placing her arms around his neck.

After they broke apart, Harry held her by the elbows and helped her to stand up. But since her hands were still on his neck, the sheets didn’t lift up with her body. They pooled around her ankles.

Harry looked down at her and smiled.

Not caring about it, Hermione stood on her tip toes and kissed his lips. Soon after, they ended back on the floor as he decided to show her right there just how much she meant to him.

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Harry and Hermione enjoyed a couple of wonderful days in the beach house. Since Hermione had already made plans to go back to London the following Sunday, Harry decided he could stay with her until then.

“What about Moody?” Hermione asked him, knowing that he was supposed to report back to headquarters.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said pulling a strand of hair away from her face. “I’ll deal with it when we get back home.”

They totally enjoyed those days at the beach. Getting up late, not precisely because they’d sleep in, but well… let’s just say their nights had been quite busy. The truth was not only their nights were restless, but any time of the day was fine with them.

Being alone in a somewhat isolated place gave them the freedom to enjoy and experience their sexual relations freely. There was no room left in the house where they hadn’t done it.

When their bodies needed a brake and some fresh air, Harry and Hermione would go to the small town and walk around the spotless street or have something to eat at the small café.

----------------------------------------------

On their last night at the beach house, Harry and Hermione were at the beach, sitting in a blanket placed on the sand. The sun had been gone for a while, but they were still sitting there, admiring the scenery.

They had been quiet for a while, just enjoying the wonderful sensation of having the other by their side.

Harry turned around to see her face. She was smiling. Lately, it seemed like that smile was always on her face. She looked so beautiful with the soft glow of the moon, her cheeks rosy from the wind hitting them, her curls flying freely.

He slowly raised her hand and caressed the side of her face. Her smiled widen as she looked at him from the corner of her eyes.

“How could I’ve been so blind?” he asked himself. All of his adult life, he had been looking for someone to make a life with, someone to love, someone who’d love him back. He hadn’t realized before it but when he had gone out with a girl, he had always measured her up to Hermione.

It was as if his subconscious would be screaming at him the direction he was supposed to take. But he had been so dense not to see it.

What he had been looking for was there next to him. It had always been there. Hermione always gave him what he needed. She had been his best friend, his ally, his adventure companion, his conscious’ voice, his teacher, his savior in several occasions, even a bit of a bad influence.

She had been by his side in the toughest of times and had put up with him during his outbursts. She had cried for him, smiled with him, fought with him. There was just no him without her.

After all these thoughts had invaded his mind, Harry realized there was only one thing left for him to do. He moved around to face her and took her hands in his.

“Hermione,” he said softly. She turned to face him as well. “I love you.”

Hermione opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She tightened the grip on his hands and swallow hard. “I love you, too,” she finally managed to say.

She was about to get closer to him and kiss his lips when he spoke again.

“I want to ask you something,” she stopped at midway and sat back to listen to him. “It may sound like it’s too late to be asking you this but I’d figure you were never really given the choice before.”

Hermione looked at him curious to know what he wanted to say. Seeing his expectant expression, Harry chuckled a bit, perhaps out of nerves. Getting a bit closer to her, he finally spoke.

“Would you… would you like to be my wife?”

Hermione looked at him and was about to laugh, but his expression was so serious she decided not to. “But Harry,” she replied. “I already am your wife. The divorce didn’t go thought without my signature…”

“I know that,” he interrupted her. “But you were forced into it. I want to know Hermione if you, here,” he placed a hand over her heart, “are willing to be with me for the rest of your life.”

Hermione looked right at his green eyes. “Of course I do,” she said in a whisper.

He leaned down and caught her lips with his to seal their promise with a sweet kiss.

14 Till Death Do Us Apart

“Would you… would you like to be my wife?”

Hermione looked at Harry and was about to laugh, but his expression was so serious she decided not to. “But Harry,” she replied. “I already am your wife. The divorce didn’t go thought without my signature…”

“I know that,” he interrupted her. “But you were forced into it. I want to know Hermione if you, here,” he placed a hand over her heart, “are willing to be with me for the rest of your life.”

Hermione looked right at his green eyes. “Of course I do,” she said in a whisper.

He leaned down and caught her lips with his to seal their promise with a sweet kiss. Slowly, he pulled away and felt his heart swell as he found so much love in her eyes, love for him. He was such a lucky guy!

Hermione smiled at his goofy expression. She felt so happy she couldn’t ask for anything more. Well... perhaps one more kiss. She grabbed hold of his collar and pulled him to her. Immediately, she brought her lips up to him and kissed him passionately.

Their kisses were now so confident. No trace of shyness was left.

Hermione gently bit his lips. His tongue then begged for entrance, which she quickly gave him. Harry’s blood begin to boil as her soft hands started to caress his firm chest. He pulled her closer to him as his mouth moved away from hers and kissed his way to her ear. A soft moan escaped her mouth as Harry grabbed her earlobe with his teeth.

Hearing her doing that kind of noises always turned him into a mad man. He would do anything, anything as long as she’d keep on moaning like that. And so he did, right there in the beach.

With a sudden desperate need to be inside her, Harry started to pull her clothes away, which weren’t that many. She was wearing a pair of denim shorts and the top of her bikini. In a few seconds, those garments were tossed aside.

They became totally oblivious to the tiny detail of being outside, in the beach. Nothing really matter to them but feeling totally connected.

With the moon and the stars as their only blankets, they made love until their bodies were completely exhausted. As they waited for their muscles to regain their strength, they laid in the sand, arms and legs entangled.

“Hermione…” suddenly said Harry.

“Mmmh…” was her reply.

“I want us to buy a house like this.” She turned her face to look questioningly at him. “I want to repeat this moment again and again.”

She smiled at him. “Whatever you say honey.”

………………………………...................................

“Will you lot hurry up!” Ron screamed at his family. He and Luna were staying at the Burrow. They had came all the way from Egypt to attend the weeding of their good friends.

Harry and Hermione were getting married - again - in a couple of hours and they were running late. A portkey would take them to a beautiful private beach in Northern Britain were the ceremony was to take place.

Harry and Hermione had decided to let the divorce follow its course. It had been finalized just two weeks ago. Now, a little over a month after leaving the little French village, they were going to get married for the second

This time, however, they were doing it willingly and happily. Their closest friends were going to be present. Since they had such wonderful memories of the beach house, they had decided to marry in a beach.

Some of Harry’s connections had found the perfect place for them, away from the city and from any curious eyes - some guests were apparating or using portkeys.

The ceremony was to take place at sunset. Several useful spells and enchantments had come in handy to prepare the beach for the ceremony and the reception that would follow. White flowers of all kinds were freely scattered throughout. A gorgeous arch made out of white roses had magically been put up in the place where the bride and groom were to say their bows. Lines of chairs sat before the arch and behind them several round tables waited for the guests.

All of the Weasleys were present. Hermione’s parents were quite pleased to see their daughter glowing with happiness. They knew she couldn’t have found a better man to marry than Harry.

Besides them, Neville, Moody, Lupin, Tonks, Professor McGonagall, Victor, Dobby, Winky, and several other of the friends the couple made during the years attended to witness their union.

When the time came, Hermione came out of a white tent that had been put up so she could get ready. Her father was to walk her down the aisle.

She was barefoot, wearing a simple spaghetti-strap summer dress, and no make-up. She had let her hair down. A single long-stem rose in her hands. Even when her appearance seemed plain, to Harry she had never looked more beautiful than that night.

At the end of the ceremony, they were surrounded by everyone. Hugs and kisses of congratulations were spread over the once-again-newlyweds.

The celebration lasted well into the night as everyone danced and laughed happily. Ron and Luna took the opportunity to announce to everyone that they were expecting their first baby and that they would be moving back to London.

“So, Harry…” said Ron after his friend congratulated him about the happy news. “Seems like finally I beat you on something mate. Not only I married before you, but now I’m going to be a daddy first.”

“Oh, not if I can help it,” said Harry, slapping Ron in the arm. “Oy Hermione!” Harry called at his wife who was sitting next to him, talking animatedly with Ginny. “Is there any way we can have a baby in less than 9 months?” he asked teasingly.

“Unless you’re talking about adopting a puppy,” she replied, laughing at him.

"Admit it man," quickly added Ron, patting his friend in the shoulder. "You've been beaten by a Weasley!"

Trying to fake a look of disappointment, Harry sighed. "Oh, well... but don't get used to it, though."

"You don't know how happy we are to know you two are moving back to London," said Hermione to Ron after a few minutes. "We've missed you so much. I never thought I'd be saying this, but... I missed bickering with you," she said with a warm smile on her face.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to catch up."

Just then, Luna joined the table. She had been talking to her mother-in-law. When she found out what they were talking about, she added, "That's one of the reasons why we're moving back. We missed all of this!" She said waving her arms around. "Our people, our home..."

Ron's expression changed to a more serious one. "The first months in Egypt were great, you know. Everything was new to us. But as time went by, we started to get homesick."

Luna placed a hand on her husband's and said, "So when we found out about the baby, Ron immediately asked to be transferred to London. We want our baby to be born here."

Hermione smiled at her friends, as she leaned closer to Harry. She was so happy to have them back.

Minutes later, Harry and Hermione were slowly dancing Harry. He pulled away just so he could look into her eyes and brought back the subject they had been talking about. “You know Mione,” he said looking right into his wife’s eyes. “I’m seriously thinking that’s not a bad idea.”

“What? Having a puppy?” she asked.

Harry chuckled at that. “Yeah,” he said. “But a puppy of our own.” As he said that he softly caressed her stomach.

Hermione’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?” she asked amazed at his words.

“Totally!”

"Is this about that whole Ron-beating-you-at-it thing?" she asked.

Harry looked right into her eyes so she could see just how serious he was about it. "No, this is about you and me... and about making a family together."

For all response, Hermione threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “Oh Harry!” she said in his ear. “You make me the happiest witch alive.”

“And this is just the beginning…”

She closed her eyes as they continued dancing to the slow music. Hermione felt as if she was gliding, levitating above the clouds. Then, Harry's voice brought her back down to earth.

"Hermione..." he said softly. "What do you say we disappear from here and get started in that little project I told you about?"

Hermione pulled her face away from him and tried to give him a serious look. "But Harry... this is our wedding reception. It'd be rude to our guests if we disappear like that."

"C'mon Mione..." he pleaded. "The sooner we start, the sooner there'll be three of us."

Hermione smiled at that. "Alright, but let's just wait until this song finishes."

Harry agreed to wait a few minutes and pulled her closer to him. Once again, Hermione closed her eyes. She couldn't believe her luck. Not only she had married the man of her life, but they'd soon be making a family together. Life couldn't get any better.

I was born marked with your love,

I felt your breathing…

I learned to love you without noticing.

I predicted it had to be you.

And then one night…

The moon caught fire. It was magical!

I have you with me forever.

I was made for you.

You were deep inside me.

Even before love… you were already part of my heart.

I woke up and my dream came true.

I found happiness!

Fate can not be wrong.

You’re here and I know you’ll never leave.

You’ll be my music.

Every caress was already written.

Even before love… you were already part of my heart.

Kumbia Kings & Sin Bandera (Translated by Hedwig76)

A/N: Well there you have it. I know it’s kind of short, but I hope you all like it. Oh, and as for Sally… she got her punishment. She ended up alone. Charles got the divorce and moved on to greener pastures. Sally may have done the business of her life by marrying/divorcing Charles. Yes, she had money to burn, but… can money really buy happiness?