A Tale of Run-On Sentences by fudgie Rating: R Genres: Angst, Romance Relationships: Harry & Hermione Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6 Published: 19/04/2006 Last Updated: 24/04/2006 Status: In Progress short three part fic, post-hogwarts affair fic. harry & hermione decide to start putting themselves first, etc etc. just read it, okay? 1. un ----- **A Tale of Run-On Sentences** **disclaimer**: doesn't belong to me, no copyright infringement is intended, etc, etc. **a/n**: there will be two more parts to this, because that is how i wrote it. yes, i realise that it is short. it is a ficlet. yes, the chapters are all this short. and in regard to my other fics, I will, hopefully, continue those in the near future. no promises though. -~-~-~-~-~- You can't help it. It's just... insane. The rush you feel when you're with him. It makes you forget about the war, and Ron, and Harry's engagement to Ginny, and blast the whole bloody Weasley family--- since when did your life revolve around them? Your lips meet his and you can't help how you feel. The rock on your finger--- all it does is bring you grief and pain because you should be with him, with *Ron*--- your boyfriend of four years, and fiancee of two years, your mind reminds you. But your heart tells you different--- you love Harry, you've loved him since that first train ride to Hogwarts, but you were too afraid to acknowledge it. You've both dug yourselves into a hole. You both are supposed to belong to someone else, and yet--- your hearts race and your hands grope and your lips meet and it all feels so *right*, even if it's wrong and you're hurting the Weasleys---- but it's your turns to be selfish no! It's time to put *you* first instead of Ron and Ginny and the whole sodding wizarding world because what do they know anyway? Harry's tongue dances with yours before he begins to take off your shirt--- you're not wearing a bra; it's quicker and less awkward this way. You moan as his mouth kisses your bare breast and works its way down to the waistband of your skirt. Hands tug at your skirt, pulling it down, and you reach behind him and pull down his pants before giving his arse a grope. He grins wickedly at you and conveys everything he is thinking with just a quick glance. *Are you sure?* You kiss him in response, and he thrusts into you. You cry out and he stops, making sure you're okay. You assure him that everything is fine--- *you're* fine, and his hips begin to move, and you soon join his movements. Soon he moans and is spent and collapses on top of you. You didn't come but that's okay because you're with him and you can smell his colgne and your hands are idly running through his messy hair and he has a sleepy grin on his face and says *I love you, Hermione* before nodding off. You cradle his sleeping form in your arms, thinking. You know this is right and you are prepared to accept the consequences and backlash because you are Hermione Granger and you are strong and will stand up for what you believe in and you believe in you and Harry. You smile to yourself as Harry mumbles your name in his sleep. Yes, this is definitely right. -~-~-~-~- 2. deux ------- **A Tale of Run-On Sentences** **Part II** **A/N:** one part left! I love reviews so leave one if you’re not feeling too lazy (if you are feeling lazy, I understand, because I rarely review either. I’ll take the 1000+ hits I got for chapter one as a sign of trueee love and laziness.) -~-~-~-~- You wake up and feel the warmth of his body. You both have shifted during the night; his body is no longer half-covering yours. His arm is draped over your chest and he is facing you, clearly still asleep. You carefully move his arm and scoot yourself to the side of the bed. You look behind you to make sure he hadn't began to stir. You lightly jump off the bed, landing on the soft carpet without a sound. You bend down and collect your discarded clothing, quickly putting it on. You open the drawer to Harry's nightstand, taking out a pad of paper and a pen. *Harry--- Went to Ron's. I'm going to tell him. Don't shake your head! I* am*! I love you. ---H* You put down the pen and set the note on the pillow next to Harry. You sigh and apparate back to the apartment you share with Ron. He's sitting on the couch, awake, whne you walk into the living room. He looks woried. And mad. His legs are crossed and his fingers are tapping some pattern on the armrest. He looks up when you walk in. He jumps up. "Where have you been?" "Out." "With who?" "Nobody." "Bull." "Ron! You're so *impossible*! What makes you think---" "It's bloody two in the morning! You're never out that late, Hermione! Especially by yourself!" he yells, clenching his fists. "I was with *Harry*!" you yell back, eyes blazing. You're getting angry now--- Ron always does that! Harry never makes you fel this... angry, hurt, infuriated. "My life does not revolved around you, Ronald Bilius Weasley! You can't control what I do, or who I do it with!" As you yell, he's coming toward you. When you finish screaming, his mouth is on yours and his tongue is pushing into your mouth. This just makes you angrier, and you gather up all your strength and push him away. "Ron! I'm not having *sex* with you! We can't just... have sex whenever we have a fight, and then everything's fine again!" "Why not?" You roll your eyes. "Because that is not how healthy adult relationships work." "Why not?" "They just... *don't*. Here." You slide his engagement ring off your finger and put it into his hand. "I'm so sorry, Ron. I want to still be friends. I--- I'll be at Harry's." You mutter a spell and all of your things shrink themselves and fly into your suitcase. You snap the suitcase shut and walk up to him and kiss his cheek. "I love you, Ron. Just not..." You sigh. "Well---er, bye." You close your eyes and apparate out, leaving a dumbfounded man to his thoughts. 3. trois -------- **A/N:** the shortest chapter of them all!! Um, this is the last chapter. I appreciate all of the reviews I’ve gotten, and I love you all. <3 um. Review this chapter if you want, and again, I’m sorry for the shortness of it. But that’s the way it is. So deal. -~-~-~-~- **A Tale of Run-On Sentences** **Chapter 3** You arrive back at Harry's apartment. He is sitting on the sofa, similar to how Ron was sitting moments before you broke his heart. "I woke up and you weren't here," he says softly, standing up and pulling the cord tight on his robe. "I thought---" "Shh," you say, cutting him off with a kiss. "You're the one I want." He kisses you back, pulling you toward him with his arm and then lets his hand sit on the curve of your waist. You stay there for minutes, lost in each other's eyes. And lips. There are no sunlit days, as it's now 4am, but sunlit days are overrated anyway. You smirk, thinking 'sunlit days' sounds like something out of a bad Harlequin novel, or something Ginny Weasley might say. "What?" Harry asks, pulling away for a moment. "Hm?" "You were smiling at something." "Oh, just thinking." "About?" "Oh, um---" you giggle; he's beginning to kiss a path from your neck to your ear. "Just--- oh, you've got to, I mean--- Ginny..." "Mm, yesterday," he moans into your ear. "I told her we were over yesterday, love." "What, you knew you'd get lucky last night?" He laughs. "No--- but you and I've talked about running away from our terribly drab lives and finally being able to be together. And I don't love Ginny, I never really did, it was just a crush of sorts, an infatuation, something to make me realise I didn't want the superficialness of that kind of relationship; I wanted you. I basically told her all of that." "Ow. How did she take it?" "Not so good." "I don't blame her... it'd be devastating to lose you." "You almost did," he says. You're not sure if he's referring to last week's battle, or him almost getting married to Ginny. "I never gave her my mother's engagement ring, you know. The one I gave Ginny was one I bought at a store. When I--- we--- I mean, if--- when we... get engaged, I want to give you my mum's ring." "Oh, Harry," you say. You wrap your arms around him, resting your head on his shoulder. This is perfect. *He's* perfect. fin.