"Argh," he groaned touching his head sensitively. He felt as if he had spent the last few hours with his head securely fixed in a vice. Stumbling into his white sterile bathroom, which was unfortunately radiant in the dazzling sunlight streaming through a small triangular window, he collapsed beside the toilet and spent the next five minutes vomiting, ridding his stomach of all solidness and substance.
After taking a substantial amount of pills to clear his head, he made his lonesome way to work. Traffic was an absolute nightmare and after falling asleep at the wheel while waiting for any movement and being rudely awakened by an infuriated driver, he decided to make a brief stop for some stimulating black coffee.
"Mr. Potter," Imelda greeted him, she paused slightly seeing his dishevelled appearance. He kept his face impassive as he nodded formally towards her and entered his office mutely. Instantly the light automatically switched on causing him to wince. He turned it off encasing the room in darkness. Lighting his wand he left it on his desk so that he could his make his way around.
Four hours later and he reclined in his seat, sighing heavily at the new task this problematical day was throwing his way. He had to pay another visit to the Weasley residence in order to attain more information concerning his `new' stock, purchased from Mr. Morealon. Picking up his jacket he left the office squinting at the raw beams of light that pierced his eyes agonizingly.
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The door was ripped open, his hand still in the action of knocking. "Hello," he said cheerfully briefly wondering whether the alcohol was still abundant in his system. A short plump Mediterranean maid bowed with theatrical servility and opened the door wider for him to enter. He enlightened her of his doings and showed her a warrant to search the house, before continuing into Ron's office.
The first thing Harry noticed was that there was a considerable amount of newly moved paperwork stacked in a corner. Clapping his hands in mock delight he got on his knees and began to flip through them. Ten minutes into his search and he was midway through a glass of wine from Ron's cabinet.
"What are you doing Harry?" Hermione said disappointedly as she entered the room to see his bent form, glass in hand.
"I am looking for stock-lists and I can't find them fucking anywhere!" he exclaimed, slurring his words slightly.
"You're drunk," she said stridently, bending down beside him and removing the wine glass from his hand.
"No I'm not," he replied vaguely. Without prior warning she placed both hands on either side of his face and examined his emerald eyes with the Healer wisdom she had been immersed in for the past decade. He momentarily froze under her touch but once he regained all senses he stumbled onto his feet and staggered backwards into the desk. "What are you doing?"
"Are you taking any medication, Harry?" she asked earnestly.
"Yeah…why does it matter?" He knew precisely why it mattered.
"Because prescribed medication and alcohol do not combine well," she huffed, striding out of the room briefly before returning with a long needle. "It's a potion. It isn't conventional to use magical brews in muggle medical equipment but they use different systems of the body," she explained. Harry had no idea what she was describing but guessed this might alleviate the drowsiness he was experiencing.
Pulling up his shirt sleeve she gave him a quick jab which he barely felt. She was acting like last night never happened, he thought morosely. If this was her choice then what would his be? Or was that choice made years ago when he had first seen her. Was all this just fate? If it was…then why had it led him here?
His sweaty hand slipped from the desk and he ended up sitting slumped against the desk. "You'll feel a bit lethargic for the next few hours. Harry…" she said tentatively. "What medication were you taking?" He was aware that she knew the answer.
His head drooped slightly as he felt his arms go limp. He felt so vulnerable sitting like a rag doll in front of her. "Will these effects be over soon? I need to be going."
"I'll drive you home. What medication were you taking?" she repeated sternly.
He kept his silence increasing Hermione's frustration. When he spotted her firm but worried expression he sighed. "Er…I've been taking anti-depressants. Doctor advised them."
"Why…why have you…you been taking them?" she asked concerned.
"Just…just take me back!" he shouted.
"Harry…tell me the truth. Please!" she pleaded.
"I was alone. I wasn't sleeping or eating properly. Went to the doctor and voila…anti-depressants."
It took all her strength to lift him from the floor. Helping him out to his car he fell against the driver door. "I'm fine…I can take it from here."
"You can barely walk let alone drive a vehicle. I learned how to drive after I left Hogwarts."
They remained in silence as she drove until Harry fell into a slumber in the passenger seat. Minutes later he was shaken away by a delicate hand on his shoulder. The first thing he noted when he awoke was the fierce salty tang of the sea filling his nostrils. He opened his eyes, gasped and sat forward. The car was parked on a roadside lined with tall narrow houses facing the immense view of vast sea.
After noticing he had complete control of his body again he sat up straighter in his leather seat. Rain pounded the windscreen and a gusty wind howled around the car. It did not resemble summer at all. A clap of thunder rang out across the sky. He did not ask why she had not taken him home. He did not want to know.
"It's beautiful…" she started then stopped instantly afraid to continue.
"And it's strange," he finished, earning a confused expression from her.
"What's so strange about…"
"The everlasting struggle between the earth and the sky. The way the sea wishes to remain stationary looking on at the land it protects. But you can feel it. The sea's fear that the raging war in the sky will finally make its way down here again. That storm is blocking us out from the rest of the universe and there isn't anything the sea can possibly do about it. Right now…under the shelter of the clouds…time doesn't exist…the universal clock has been concealed from our eyes."
"We can ignore it if we want to," Hermione muttered in a reverie. Harry slowly shifted his head to look into her eyes, sensing that something was changing between them.
"I am trying to use everything that I have learned in the past decade to numb myself against feeling anything. But for the first time…for the first time I can't do it. I don't think I want to," Harry's voice was just above a whisper. "What did you mean? Last night…you said…"
"Is that why you took those pills and then drank them down with a bottle of Firewhiskey?" she asked incredulously. "Because of what I said."
"I've been on the medication for a couple of months. You're not the reason I was…wait…how did you know about the Firewhiskey?"
"I am good at what I do. I can smell and see Firewhiskey from a mile away," she retorted irritably. "My best friend addicted to anti-depressants and alcohol!" she shrieked at him. Through her anger he recognised the empathy she had always shown towards him in Hogwarts. It was never convulsive fury it was just worry. And it hit him quite poignantly that she still cared for him.
"I'm not sorry," he said, his voice choking in his throat slightly. "I'm not sorry for leaving, because I had to. So much depended on that decision and I was glad that I made it. But…I am sorry for not coming back sooner."
"I don't know whether I want to hear this or not," she cried. "I had feelings for you since fifth year that I still don't have for Ron. But I'm married to him."
"You don't want to be though," Harry asserted somewhat defensively. "Divorce him."
"How on earth can you say that? Fine, I'll admit, there are feelings between us but we cannot just drop everything to be together," she exclaimed.
"Why not?" he replied childishly looking out at the raging waves beating vehemently at the pier. He turned to look at the outraged look on her face.
"Alright, it is selfish," he admitted. "But I have been through all the lonely crap that life has thrown at me. And I can't help but feel infuriated that that was the consequence of doing something right for the world. And now I have a chance and I'm terrified that I'll let that slip away or even more anxious that you will. Please don't lie to me and tell me you're happy when you're not, Hermione…Ron made his choice about your marriage, now make yours."
Hermione let a lone tear run the length of her face and felt an obstruction in her throat which she fought through. "I…I love you," she whispered. His agitated hand which had been drumming on his knee stopped immediately. He did not know how to react and saw the pained impatient expression on her face.
He opened his mouth but could not find words in his vocabulary to reciprocate his feelings. He knew what he wanted to say but he found it exceedingly difficult to say anything. With a stifled sob she thrust the door open, the sound of the rain pummelling the defenceless ground exploded into the car. She rapidly scrambled out of the seat and sped across the road, the downpour saturating her clothes and skin. Harry followed instantly; he did not need to think about it anymore. He chased her through the sightless shower that danced on the pavement and streamed in flows down the road. He could barely make out what lay in front of him and continually wiped the water running into his eyes.
"Hermione!" he roared desperately. He recognised the dangers of her slipping and falling into the ferocious sea and so increased his pace until he leaped forward and trapped her arm in his grip. "Stop," he pleaded. He clutched her close to him and somehow through the torrents of rain cascading down upon them he felt her breath on his neck. He slid his coarse hand up from her shoulder and tangled it into her hair. Tilting her chin upwards he touched her lips with his. They moved closer, their sensual kiss deepening with each moment. One of her hands grabbed a fistful of his drenched hair as the other draped around his neck.
They broke apart slightly, both breathing heavily. She choked out a laugh, a smile that illuminated the features of her face. It was the first time he had really seen her let out an honest laugh and she wrapped both her arms around his neck tightly, almost fearing to release him. "Let's go back to your place," she whispered into his ear.
Hours later she lay sprawled on her back, the weight of his head just above her abdomen. Sweat still clung to her skin, and was trickling down from his saturated hair. Flashes of last night rushed through her mind, the tangled white sheets, their bodies completely pressed against each other, waves of ravenous pleasure crashing through her. Sex with Ron had become a routine that had dwindled and died a few weeks ago. Being with Harry had rejuvenated her passion and it felt like the first time all over again. Her entire body now felt numb except she felt his ruffled hair touching her clammy skin.
He knew from her breathing pattern that she was awake but he still refused to move, afraid that the image and the feelings would melt away from him. He could not remember the last time that he had felt this content or sure about anything in his life. He glimpsed the remnants of their clothes hanging over the edge of his bed and a glowing light cascading through the open window illuminating the bed itself.
Finally after another hour of satisfied comfortable silence he shifted his head and then pulled himself up so they were lying side by side. "Do you regret it?" he asked, failing to control the fear in his voice.
She turned her head so she was looking directly at him and her lips broke into a wide smile. "No…never." He leaned over and captured her lips, bringing his hand to her naked waist. When he pulled away from her he planted a kiss on her forehead, before climbing out of the bed, wrapping a towel around his waist and started making breakfast.
"What time is it?" Hermione inquired as she entered his kitchen fully clothed.
"Half-six," he replied with a glance at his contemporary microwave which had a flashing LCD screen.
"I better go, Harry," she said regretfully. "I have to be in work in about an hour and my uniform is at home."
Harry nodded mutely before escorting her to the door. "Take care of yourself, Hermione. If anything happens…then you know where do find me."
"What do you think is going to happen?" she asked forebodingly.
"I don't know," he replied throatily. She placed a kiss on his cheek before exiting his apartment. He watched her until she entered the elevator before returning to his apartment. He changed speedily before returning to cooking breakfast. Her last question played on his mind though. What was going to happen?
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Part 2 coming very soon.
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