A/N - ah, a few mixed comments for my last chapter - all fair enough. Hopefully this chapter will redeem Hermione for those who couldn't understand her last time. Thank you one and all for your fantastic reviews. Enjoy!
Chapter 5
"Why do you keep running from me?"
Hermione didn't turn around at Harry's question, instead she just stood there with her head bowed, trying to work everything out in her head - once again.
"Hermione?"
She felt him reach out to her, gently turning her to face him, his hand taking hers. It took all her will power not to look at him, not to pull him into her arms and crush him in a hug, but she did it. He wasn't hers to hug.
"Please, talk to me," he pleaded, stepping closer, "I don't understand why you keep running away. Hermione, tell me what was wrong. Help me understand."
"Don't Harry," she said quietly, still not looking at him, "please."
"Don't what?" he replied back, all pleading gone, "bloody hell Hermione, I thought you were dead! When I saw you at that stupid speech at Diagon Alley, I thought I had seen a ghost and it's taken me a bloody long time to prove to myself that I was right, that it was you! I'm not going to let you push me away now - talk to me!"
Hermione sighed. He had the right to know what was going on with her, he was such a big part of the mess that was her mind after all. But it wasn't going to be easy. She sighed again, yet she felt her resolve strengthen. She had to do this. There was no other way.
"Okay," she agreed after a few more moments of thought.
"Okay?" Harry repeated, slightly stunned, "er…right. Brilliant. Um, shall we go somewhere then?"
Hermione just nodded, took her hand out of Harry's and began to walk to the small park she knew was just around the corner, terribly aware that he quickly fell into step at her side.
Without speaking, she found her way to her favourite park bench that overlooked one of the many university campuses and sat.
"Why do you keep running away from me?" he asked after a moment as he sat down next to her.
"Because I'm scared," she replied truthfully.
"Of me?"
"Kind of," Hermione said with a sigh, "I didn't know how I would handle seeing you. Especially…" she paused, wanting to say 'because you're back with Ginny' but not too sure if she should.
"Especially what?"
"I can't believe you're alive, that you're back," she answered instead.
"Neither can I," Harry admitted, "it's been really strange. And waking to find that you had disappeared. I couldn't believe you'd go…"
"I had been by your side for three years Harry," she stated, knowing he was staring at her but she kept her gaze firmly on her hands in her lap.
"I know, Ron said. It was just…strange," he tried to explain, "out of all the people in my life, I always thought you'd be there for me."
"You have other people…"
"No-one like you Hermione," he said earnestly and for the first time since he had stopped her, she looked at him, "when Ron told me you had left, and they hadn't heard from you for so long, that they didn't know whether you were alive or dead, it felt like my life had ended. You have no idea…"
"I sat by your side feeling like that for a very long time Harry, I think I know."
"Right," he replied shortly, holding her gaze, "why did you leave, Hermione?"
"Because."
"Because? Because why?"
"Because it was so, very hard," Hermione whispered, returning to looking at her hands.
"What's happened to you?" Harry asked softly; she looked back at him.
"What…what do you mean?" she stammered.
"You're this scared, timid little girl who can't even look at me without cowering in fear…or shame," he stated with a hint of a frown, "not the strong, independent young woman who saved my life more times than I care to admit."
"Maybe she was lost during the years spent waiting…" she paused again, her words once more stuck in her throat, not sure if telling Harry she loved him was the right thing to do at the moment.
"Waiting for me?" he asked; Hermione nodded and looked back down at her hands. Harry continued to speak, "during the time I lay in that bed, it was like I was in this dream where it was so quiet, so peaceful and I was happy. Every time I felt I was ready to carry on to wherever I was going, I heard a voice that was familiar, telling me to stay. I didn't recognise the voice but I came to rely on it, welcoming its regular appearance into my world.
"Then the voice stopped coming. I waited for it to come back but it never did. I wanted to find out what had happened to the voice because something inside me was missing it so much that I came back to where the voice came from.
"When I woke up, it took a couple of months before I was really able to talk to anybody. It wasn't until everyone was sure I wasn't going to cark it that they started telling me the truth; that I had been out to it for five years, that Ron was married to Luna and they had a son, that Remus and Tonks had also married, that Charlie and Moody were dead and that you had run away."
"Harry I…"
"Those first few months I really didn't know what was going on but I knew something was missing," he carried on, interrupting her, "and when Ron told me you'd left I spent a lot of time wondering why and came to two conclusions - 'because it was hard' wasn't one of them."
"Why are you doing this to me?" Hermione asked, still not looking at him.
"Doing this to you?" Harry repeated angrily, "doing what to you? Strangely, this isn't all about you Hermione! You disappeared without a trace, letting all your friends think that you had died because there would be no other reason why you'd not contact anybody at all for two bloody years! They've been worried sick about you and when you do actually return to the country, it seems that contacting them isn't in your list of things to do! Hell, Hermione - they're your friends!"
"My friends?" Hermione questioned, finally looking at Harry, "did Ron tell you what happened when I told him I was leaving? Did he tell you what he said to me?"
"He said that you had a fight, but you two are always bickering about one thing or another…"
"I don't believe this…" she muttered, standing and turning away from him.
"So you and Ron had a row," Harry continued tersely, "and that was the reason you fell off the face of the planet for two years?"
"You really want to know why I left?" Hermione shouted, turning back to him, her eyes blazing, "why I didn't want to come back? Because of you Harry! Because I visited you every day for three years with the hope that it would be me that brought you back, but it wasn't and it was killing me! Everyone carried on with their lives except you and me and I couldn't deal with that any more, so I left.
"And I stayed away because I didn't know what I would come back to - Ron hated me…"
"Ron doesn't hate you…"
"Yes he does! Yes he did! Oh, I don't know!" Hermione turned away again, "this is all such a mess, I've made such a mess of everything…"
"Hermione…"
"I don't know who I am anymore," she continued, more to herself than to Harry, "I want to be…I don't know where I stand, where I belong. Everything is just so confusing…"
"But it doesn't have to be," Harry said quickly, going to her side and making her face him, "Hermione, you belong with us, with Ron, me, Ginny…"
Hermione pulled away from him as he said Ginny's name, once more deflated and in a way, defeated.
"I can't go back to that Harry," she whispered, "I can't go back. Ron, he said…he said he didn't want anything to do with me. And Ginny…"
"I don't understand," Harry murmured, "why would Ron say something like that? I mean, I know you two row…oh no."
Hermione looked at Harry and met his eyes with her own, seeing the realisation cross his face. Ron hadn't told him, Harry didn't know that everyone knew of their one night together.
"He knows about you and me?" Harry asked, Hermione just nodded, "does…does Ginny know too?"
"Yes."
"They never said," he carried on, thinking hard, "all this time, they never said a thing. Ron just told me you had a fight, that he was really annoyed but that was it. And Ginny…"
"I'm sorry Harry," Hermione said uncertainly, "I know you wanted to tell her yourself, but it just…I was angry and it sort of slipped out. Ginny was really good about it though, said she understood. But now that you and her are back together, I don't know…"
"Hang on," Harry interrupted, "what do you mean, Ginny and I being back together?"
"I saw you with her," Hermione stammered, uncomfortable under Harry's intense glare, "at Diagon Alley…"
"Hermione, I'm not with Ginny," he said gently, "how can I be? For one, she's with Neville…'
"Neville?"
"Yes, Neville, and they're really happy," Harry smiled, "and two, you have consumed my brain so much that since I woke, you have been all I think about. I thought that the reason you didn't come back was that either you were dying, dead or that you were ashamed of what we did, what happened between us," his smile faulted as he looked at her nervously, "you're not, are you?"
"You…you remember?" she breathed.
"How can I forget," he replied, taking her shaking hands in his (which also weren't so steady), "Hermione, for the first time in my life someone told me they loved me and made me feel the most incredible, amazing person alive - how could I forget that? Why, do you…don't you want to be with me…"
"No," Hermione said, panicked, drawing her hands away from his.
"What do you mean, no?" Harry frowned, sounding both scared and confused as he stumbled, nearly falling, his face turning deathly white. She was at his side in a flash, all her own confusion and fear quickly replaced by her concern for Harry.
"I'm okay," he tried to reassure, pushing her away slightly but Hermione wasn't that easily deterred.
"No Harry, you're not," she stated briskly, for the first time really feeling his hands with hers, "you're freezing - why didn't you say you were so cold?"
"Because I'm fine," he grumbled, still trying to distance himself from her, "let me go."
"No," Hermione almost growled, "we need to get you somewhere warm. For goodness sake Harry, why didn't you say something?"
"And have you disappear from me again?" he practically spat at her, "not that it matters any way. I can't believe I actually thought you meant what you said, that you loved me. How stupid am I?"
Hermione stood looking at Harry - his face pale, his body hunched over in an attempt to keep warm, his eyes wounded and sad - and she finally realised what she had been running away from. It wasn't because she hadn't been able to handle seeing him lying in that hospital bed or even because her friends had found the happiness that had eluded her. But because she was terrified of the intensity of the love she felt for Harry.
She knew now that she had hoped distance could lessen her feelings somewhat, but it hadn't. She had hoped time would make what she felt for him more manageable but instead it had made it all that more gigantic.
She hadn't lied to Mother Rose; she had been scared of what she was going to find waiting for her back home. But in reality, the fears she had voiced in the convent garden in India had been put to rest the moment she had seen both Harry and Ron at Diagon Alley. Hermione understood now that she should've gone up to them all right there and then, that a month of worrying and thinking about things that probably weren't real would've been avoided.
But as she stood there, with her arms around a shivering Harry, her need to protect him and get him to safety as natural to her as her heart beat, she knew why she had turned her back on them all, why she was so scared.
Harry would consume her and she hadn't been strong enough. Now she was.
"Where are you staying?" she asked him firmly.
"Why do you care?" he shot back.
"Look, you can yell and scream at me all you want once you are warm and feeling better," she informed him, wrapping her scarf around his neck, "Merlin knows I deserve it. But please, let me get you somewhere warm."
"I'm staying at the Occidental Hotel," he finally admitted begrudgingly.
Hermione knew where that was and it wasn't far from where they were. She looked at him with concern as he leant on her that little bit harder.
"Are you able to walk?" she questioned gently, "would it be easier if you Apparate us to your room?"
"I can't do magic," he snapped, "and yes I can walk." As if to prove his point, he began to step away from her, stumbling as soon as he left her supporting grasp. Quickly, she was back at his side, and without saying another word, began guiding him to where she knew his hotel was, bracing him as much as she could.
All the way there, she berated herself for being so selfish she hadn't noticed Harry's condition , that she should've known better, and that really, she was a right cow. Harry kept silent and she could feel his hurt, anger and conflict seeping out of him. She desperately needed to make it right.
The warmth of the hotel lobby was a welcome relief and when the reception staff saw their guest looking so worse for wear, they immediately helped Hermione take Harry to his room, asking if he required a doctor. Hermione assured them all he would be fine and closed his bedroom door on them with a relieved thud.
They had placed him onto the double bed that sat in the middle of the room, where he remained, immobile, staring at the floor. She took her hat and coat off as she walked over to him, took a deep breath and readied herself for the tirade she knew she deserved.
"Harry…" she ventured hesitantly.
"I thought you loved me," he whispered, still staring at the floor, "I've spent all this time trying to get better, trying to find you because I thought you loved me. And all this time it was a lie."
"It's not a lie Harry," she said quietly - his head snapped up as he looked at her.
"What?" he choked out.
"It's not a lie," she repeated, watching him from her place by the bed, "I love you so very much."
"I…I don't understand," Harry stammered, "you said no…"
"We need to get you warm," she smiled gently, ignoring his comment as she made her way to the heater, turning it up slightly before going to the bed to turn on his electric blanket "we can talk about all of this when you're feeling better…"
"I want to talk about it now Hermione," he exclaimed gruffly, stopping her as she passed by him, "what's going on? Why the bloody hell did you say no!"
Hermione disengaged herself from Harry and sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed but as far away from him as she could.
"I've been so incredibly stupid," she admitted with a wry shake of her head, "and to think, I was once known as an extremely bright witch. I guess I am, but not about life and definitely not about love," she looked over at him fondly, "I had loved you for so long Harry, fantasised about you, and then given up knowing, thinking, that you'd never be mine. And then you were, for one magical, amazing night.
"That night has consumed me ever since. I tried to forget it, to move on, but I never could. And it scared me because I've lost who I was, who I am. When you told me that you remembered our night and that it was as special to you as it is to me, a new wave of fear hit me…"
"And you pulled away," Harry finished for her.
"Yes."
"I've put you through a lot, haven't I?" he said somewhat sadly, making Hermione scoot across the bed and take his hands in hers, which she was happy to note were a lot warmer.
"Don't you dare blame yourself for what I've done and how I've felt," she growled, "all of this, all my 'running away' is something that belongs to me." Hermione paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts before carrying on a bit more gently, "when I realised that I had totally ignored the fact that you're not one hundred per cent, that I've been so wrapped up with me that it didn't even occur to me that you were unwell, I had an epiphany…"
"A what?"
"An epiphany," Hermione repeated, smiling, "an amazing revelation. I realised that the reason I've been so scared is that if you and I happen, I love you so much that I'd be lost in you. The stupid thing is, I've lost myself anyway."
"If you let me, I'll help you find yourself again," Harry offered, a half grin hitting his face.
"I'd like that," she replied, blushing slightly as she stared into his now twinkling eyes.
"When I woke, you were the first person I saw," he said softly after a small pause.
"What?" Hermione asked, slightly confused.
"When I woke up. I opened my eyes and saw this beautiful woman with short, short hair, working in a garden somewhere," Harry continued, reaching out and running his hand over her hair, his touch leaving shockwaves throughout her body, "I didn't realise it was you until I saw you at Diagon Alley."
"I…I saw you too," she stammered, a little bit frightened, "when you woke, I saw you in my mind."
"How can that be?" he asked, his hand now resting on her cheek, caressing it ever so slightly, a frown touching his face.
"I don't know," Hermione admitted, leaning slightly into his touch, "but, it's a bit scary, don't you think?"
"There was always something special, a sort of connection between you and me," he breathed, leaning closer to her, "perhaps its scary in a good way…"
"Harry…" she whimpered, whatever she was about to say cut off as his lips found hers. Her brain stopped functioning as she revelled in his kiss, feeling slightly annoyed when he pulled away.
"Your hair is brilliant, short like that," he remarked breathlessly, his eyes boring into hers, "I can see your beautiful face better now."
"Thank you," she replied, her heart beating ten times faster than it should as her face went a brilliant shade of red. His eyes held her as they leaned towards each other - close, but not quite touching. She had to get herself under control because she knew that at any moment, she was going to loose it and do a bit more to Harry than just kiss, "um, can I use your…?" she said quickly, indicating to the small bathroom attached to the main room. A little bit surprised, Harry nodded and leaned back away from her, watching her as she left him on the bed. When she entered the bathroom, she quickly closed the door and with a blissful sigh - leaned back on it and smiled.
He remembered the night. He wanted her still. He wasn't with Ginny. He thought she was beautiful. He had kissed her. She grinned.
How stupid had she been? How could she ever have had doubts? After flushing the toilet, Hermione shook her head in disbelief as she made her way to the sink to wash her hands and suddenly stopped.
There lined up on the counter were a bunch of bottles, potion bottles - thirteen of them, she found out after a quick count. She washed her hands, dried them and then picked up a few of the potions to try and work out what they were, but she couldn't tell.
Hermione frowned - thirteen potions. This wasn't good.
She made her way back into the main room and paused. Harry was propped up against the bed head with some pillows, the duvet pulled up to his waist and his eyes closed. She studied him and once again saw the dark bags under his eyes, accentuated by his paleness. Although he had put on weight since she has seen him at Diagon Alley, he was still so very skinny.
He looked so peaceful that Hermione stood there motionless and just watched him. Even with his ailments, she couldn't help admiring how good looking he was - she had always thought it, but age had made him even more so.
She sighed. They had come back to his room because he had nearly collapsed - which she had promptly forgotten. His kiss had brought back memories of their passion of so many years ago and she realised she was stupid, and selfish, to think it would be repeated. She sighed again.
Hearing her, he opened his eyes and looked at her standing there.
"Hey," he said with a smile.
"How're you feeling?" she asked in reply.
"I'm okay," he stated firmly, his smile growing as if to convince her, "in fact, I feel bloody good."
"Harry, what's wrong with you?" she questioned, returning to her spot on the edge of his bed, not believing him at all.
"I think I just got too cold, like you said," Harry tried to convince her, his smile not quite as broad, "but I'm all toasty now…"
"I didn't mean just today," Hermione interrupted, "I mean, generally."
"Nothing really," he shrugged, "actually, I'm doing pretty well for a bloke who's been asleep for five years."
"You have thirteen potions sitting in your bathroom," Hermione continued, frowning, "that amount of potions doesn't usually indicate everything is fine, I should know. What are they for?"
"Um, lets see," Harry replied, thinking, seemingly unperturbed about her concern, "three are to help me sleep, one is to help my appetite, one is to help me gain weight, two are supplement type things and the rest…" he paused.
"Yes?" Hermione prompted.
"It seems there were things they couldn't test for when I was unconscious and came into focus once I woke," Harry explained casually, "so the rest of the potions are to try and heal that…"
"Try and heal?" Hermione repeated, "Harry…"
"I'm fine Hermione," he tried to sooth, taking her hands in his, "I promise you, I'm going to be fine. There are just a few things that need to be tweaked…"
"Like you not being able to use magic," she carried on, searching his face for answers.
"Like me not being able to use magic," he agreed.
"Do they know why you can't?"
"No, not really," again Harry shrugged, "it seems I'm quite complex."
"I bet," Hermione chuckled.
"Ah, a laugh," he joked, smiling himself, "it's good to see you laughing."
"Though its not really that funny," Hermione replied, trying to stay serious as looked directly into Harry's glowing eyes, "it's past lunch time - have you eaten?"
"I'm not hungry."
"Well, which potion will help your appetite?" she continued, getting up to return to the bathroom but unable to as Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her back to the bed.
"I'm not hungry," he repeated before taking her face in his hands and kissing her, pulling away from her for a moment to whisper, "all I want is you," then returning to her lips.
It happened so quickly, but it felt great and in seconds she was responding to his kiss with years of pent up passion. She forgot almost everything, aware only of his touch on her face. When she felt herself being lowered down on the bed, Harry's hands finding their way under her shirt, her brain kicked back into gear and she broke her mouth away from his.
"Harry," she breathed, gasping as he began to nibble on her ear lobe.
"Hmmm," he mumbled.
"Harry, you need to stop," she almost groaned - and he did, looking down at her with eyes so amazingly green.
"Why?"
"Because I have been wanting you for five years," she said breathlessly, "and if you keep doing what you're doing, well, I…I…er…might…um…I really want you Harry."
"I've been wanting you for six months Hermione and trust me, for a bloke, that's a life time," he grinned, beginning to undo the buttons of her blouse, his eyes never leaving hers, "I want you so badly."
"But, um, have you got the…er…strength?" she asked tentatively, running her hands through his hair and bringing her face so close to his she could feel his breath.
"Strangely, I feel like I could take on the world," he announced almost proudly before bending his head and showering her now exposed breastbone with feather light kisses - Hermione groaned.
"I…don't…want…to…wear…you…out," she stammered as he moved onto the swell of her breast - he paused and looked back at her face, grinning a dopey grin. She smiled.
"Oh, but what a wonderful way to be worn out, don't you think?" he smirked Hermione just smiled, took his face in her hands and kissed him with all the passion she had been suppressing, this time glad her mind was once more consumed by Harry Potter.