Fix You

A/N - This story took me a long while to write, and I tried very hard on it. That being said, please review and let me know what you think. Thanks.

Any lyrics from the song "Fix You" by Coldplay embedded within the story are not mine, and are from the song.

Chapter 1

Stuck in Reverse

He felt the weather was mimicking him. It was raining, and had been for days. It was the type of constant rain that usually had people sitting and reading a book next to a window, or just looking out and enjoying the watery scene while listening to the steady anthem of the rain falling outside.

It was calming, the kind of rain that made people slow down and take in the scenery around them, rather than just be focused on their destination. It added that wonderful scent to the air, making even the centre of the biggest city smell, even for a moment, like an Amazon rainforest. The rain had more that just the ability to get people soaked, it had the talent to change there moods, and transport them to a totally different place.

Rain also has the capacity to make people feel sad. The dampness of the world seems intensified to some by the falling of water from the sky. The dark shades of grey that the world is turned to sometimes make even the most cheerful people feel down and miserable. The depressions of each raindrop as it touches their skin seem to intensify the pointlessness in trying to cover oneself from the reality of the rain. These people discard their umbrellas, they leave their raincoats undone, and embrace the truth in the rain, allowing themselves to become drenched in both water, and sadness.

And for the past few hours, Harry Potter was one of those people.

He was in London, on his way back to his flat. The rain had been falling for almost a week, however Harry managed never to get wet. He would usually Apparate to and from work, so he never really set a foot outside. Lately however, he began to take to walking home, allowing him time alone to think and ponder.

He didn't understand why he was feeling so sad lately. Things should be great for him. He finally defeated Voldemort, the darkest wizard in the last half-century, and he and his friends survived. The wizarding world called Harry a hero, something he laughed at less and less each time he heard it.

The world started to return to something as close to normal as Harry could imagine it. Hogwarts reopened, the Ministry was back into order (with the new Minister of Magic, the one and only Arthur Weasley), and all of Harry's friends went on to do great things. Harry, after going back and graduating from Hogwarts, went on to Auror training, currently standing in his third year. He found it became bland after a while, since he had been doing it since his first year at Hogwarts. He found outlets though, such as Quidditch, to tide him over sometimes.

This night, Harry started his long walk home. It wasn't that far really, only a few blocks from the Ministry, however it was enough on a night like tonight to make someone soaked, even for only a short distance of exposure to the rain.

Harry walked along slowly, trying neither to cover himself to stay dry (which was pointless anyways, he was already drenched), or walk quickly to limit the time spent in the downpour. He glanced around and found the few people who braved the rain where doing these things, however he found no point in trying to do it himself. He just looked back down at the cobblestone sidewalk he was walking on, and continued on quietly, his jet black hair casting droplets down upon his face.

It all started when he returned from his defeat of Voldemort. Everyone was so happy to see him alive, especially Ginny and Hermione. Both girls cried tears of happiness when he walked through the door of the Burrow. When he entered that night however, Harry felt something a little surprising.

When he looked at Ginny, his love and now fiancée, and at Hermione, he couldn't place the feeling in his chest. There was something about Hermione. He didn't understand it then, however he realized it later, and as time passed, it became more an issue for Harry until soon enough, he had a hard time focusing on anything else.

When he returned from destroying Voldemort, using his love and conquering the sorcerer, the victory for the wizarding world was not one for Harry. He tried his best, and got what he wanted; Voldemort was no more, peace was restored, and his friends were alive. What he needed though, was to be with the girl he would love for the rest of his life and raise a family with, and it was only in the last while that he realized, in that he did not succeed.

The night he returned to the Burrow, it was not Ginny's face he looked to first, it was Hermione's. It was his love for her, not Ginny, that allowed him to destroy Voldemort. He told no one of it, however it haunted his thoughts for months afterwards.

He did not understand why it worked in that manner, however he came to realize as problems became evident with Ginny and himself what it was. They were not huge problems, but small and constant flaws that Harry noticed more and more as time passed. It was through some deep thinking and several of these walks, Harry came to realize that he was not in love with Ginny anymore, but was, and had always been, in love with Hermione.

He still saw Hermione, along with Ron. They were engaged now, and were getting along amiably. The times he saw Hermione, his chest ached not to be able to pour his heart to her, and kiss her passionately and let all the built up years of love out in a torrential tidal wave of emotion. He held himself back from acting on his impulses, however now as people began to settle into their lives, he found he wasn't ready for it. He didn't want to marry Ginny, he couldn't. He was in love with Hermione, and had been for years.

Harry stopped for a moment, and allowed his shoulders to hunch as he gave a sigh, looking down at his soaked shoes which stood in the massive puddle that was the sidewalk. Water pooled around his shoes, and he could feel his socks becoming dampened from the water. He could just give a flick of his wand and make them dry again, but he didn't even feel he had the energy or desire to do that.

He was getting tired of how things were. He had a deep love for someone, and yet could never tell them. Everyone was going on, doing great and having wonderful lives, and yet Harry was still stuck to having life still being uneasy.

This uneasiness was showing more lately. He found many nights were spent awake, his mind constantly reminding him of his situation and how there was no escape. He was so tired from these sleepless nights, and it easily showed on his face, and in his posture.

When he did fall asleep, all he did was have dark dreams of seeing Hermione, Ron, and all his friends happy, with himself standing to the side to watch while his heart broke, slowly and painfully. Ginny tried to help him when it would become evident while at their flat, but Harry couldn't tell her the truth. She was the only one that loved him, even if he really didn't return the same kind of love.

Harry hated the situation. When he returned from the battle, he thought he would be able to tell Hermione, and would be able to hopefully get together with her and begin to move on with life. She and Ron however, started dating very soon after, and they never broke up. Harry kept quiet the whole time, and never said a thing, however he silently and somewhat sadly wished they would break up. When they announced their engagement only a few months ago, he realized that telling Hermione would be impossible. He lost something he could never replace: a chance to tell her how he felt and find if she loved him too. He took their engagement as a spike to his heart, realizing that Hermione must have no such feelings for Harry. His love for her was all for waste.

Harry wiped his face, and continued walking, the rain continuing with its constant and melodic falling all around him. All these problems festered in Harry's head, and many times on these walks he found tears streaming down his face, not even realizing he was crying. The tension that existed in his mind was sometimes overwhelming, and he took these walks to allow himself to vent, so that Ginny would not question him.

All through these worries, he kept wondering if it could get worst. He had been debating going and talking to Hermione, whether to get closure or to actually hear that the feeling was mutual. Of course, Harry immediately discarded the second notion when he thought of it. She was in love with Ron, they were soon to be married, it didn't matter if she loved Harry like that. Even if it was true, Harry would be a horrible person to ask her to break her engagement to Ron for him. Plus, Harry knew to not put his hopes up on anything. He became a slight pessimist in the past few years, and agreed with himself to always assume the worst, since the worst usually happened to him, this situation as a prime example.

Harry was stuck, with no where to go.

He looked up, the rain running through his soaked black hair, and down his face, and saw the streetlights above him. He knew the way home, it was a left turn down this street, and four buildings down. He also knew the way to Ron and Hermione's flat. It was straight down the street he was on, a few blocks away. As he came to the corner where he would make his turn to his and Ginny's flat, he found himself noticing something.

The streetlights on their street were off. You could still see the building entranceways, and the street was visible enough, however the sidewalk lights were all darkened. The buildings appeared ghostly, empty of both light and life. Harry stood on the corner for a while, wondering what he should do, and if he should believe it was a sign.

Should he return to Ginny, and go back to his depression and face the truth that he would have no choice in life but to settle for her, since the girl he wanted was already taken and utterly unattainable, or should he follow the lights, and go to Hermione, and take the chance he never took before, the chance he has hated himself for passing up?

Harry stood, glancing in both directions, as the rain continued to fall. The sidewalks were empty of people, the puddles glimmering as droplets fell. Harry stared down towards his own flat, then back towards the lighted street. Harry's mind weighed his options, figuring what choice he should make.

Why can't I be happy? Why can't I know the truth, and tell her my secret that has devoured my thoughts and my life for the past three years?

Harry drew a deep breath, closed his eyes, and walked forward.

He felt his bones ignite, as he took more and more determined steps, allowing the lights to guide him. He knew the chances of hearing good words were low, but he needed to take the chance. He was on his way to Ron and Hermione's, and would settle the conflict within.

A/N - Again folks, please review.

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Any lyrics embedded within the story are not mine, and are from the song.

Chapter 2

If You Never Try

The rain began to fall faster as Harry walked along the empty cobblestone sidewalk. A muggle car stood parked on the side of the street here and there, appearing as ghosts, void and metallic, their tint darkened in the night. As he walked, Harry felt they were watching him, judging him on his decision, as the downpour bombarded their exteriors, and water ran down the front headlights, much like how the rain was streaking down Harry's face.

Harry paid little attention to the jury of stagnate metal forms that littered the streetsides, and continued on. A wind started up, pushing up slightly against Harry as he walked. He felt it was as if nature itself was telling him he was doing the wrong thing. He tilted his head down, and all the wind accomplished was strengthening his resolve to get to Hermione's.

The wind and rain battered against Harry as he moved down the long empty street, pleading with him to turn back. Harry would not let it win however. He wanted to face this day for a long time, and would not be stopped, now that he made the decision. He would not let the rain clouds that stood high up above, nor the puddles below, come in his way tonight.

The memories of when he was with Hermione, the times he spent with her, good and bad, flashed through Harry's mind through this journey. So many times he could have said something, however did not. He hated himself now for it, and not just for keeping in his feelings, but also for loosing so much time in the process. He could have been spending all these years with Hermione, living the life he always dreamed of, even before going to Hogwarts.

His mind however started questioning if he was doing the right thing. He could ruin everything by doing this. He could destroy his friendship, both with Hermione and Ron, just by this act. It would ruin him too, loosing his best and longest friends in the world, leaving him only with Ginny. The rest of his mind however, remained totally focused, knowing the truth of Harry's needs. He was too in love with Hermione to just let it go and try and forget. It was what he had been trying to do for years, and it only increased with the time, leading all to this night.

He knew it could, and probably would have disastrous consequences on the three of them, but he needed to know. If he didn't try, he would be left never knowing, and would stay in this depression, watching people move on and not even noticing him. He needed to know how much he was worth to Hermione, and tonight he would finally know.

He was so deep in his internal torment, when he looked up from the dancing puddles on the sidewalk in front of him, he was surprised to find he was only a few buildings from Hermione and Ron's. He stood, the rain pelting him from above, his thoughts jumping in every direction, and his feet, though cold and soaked, tingling at how close he was.

The buildings here seemed more inviting than those on his street tonight, the street lamps allowing the light amber, scarlet and tan that coloured their exteriors to stand out against the blackness of the night. The building that Hermione lived in was bricked, and only a few floors tall.

Was he ready for this? Should he think it through more before acting so rash?

Harry shook his head, willing his mind to not be so negative, and crossed the empty street, his footsteps sounding in the vacant road against the steady drizzle from the rain.

His mind was pounding, screaming at him to turn back and run to his flat, or at least away from here. He had been to Hermione's many times before, but this time was different, since his purpose for visiting had obviously never been what it was tonight.

He looked up at her building, and hope dawned in his heart. A subtle and quiet lamp light was set in the middle window on the second floor. Hermione's flat took up the front of the second floor, and Harry knew the second window was their sitting room. The drapes were drawn, but he could imagine Hermione was sitting down, reading a book while curled up on a couch. It was something Harry always loved to notice. He found it peaceful seeing her read.

He exhaled, and walked up the stone steps slowly, the falling rain extenuating the chip visible in the second step. He slumped his feet onto the base at the top of the stairs, and looked to his left, were the buzzers hung against the wall. Harry noticed all the names as he made his way to Hermione's buzzer.

Apt. 101 - G. Farley, Apt. 102 - C. + H. Tupper, Apt. 103 - W. Green + K. Wynes, Apt. 201 - M. Trytrokov, Apt. 202 - R. Weasley + H. Granger, Apt. 203 - . . .

Harry stared at Hermione's white buzzer button, his hands shaking. His mind was everywhere, trying to pull him to any place except here. He closed his eyes, and raised his hand, opening them to see his finger was pointing exactly at the button for apartment 202. He closed his eyes again, and plunged his finger forward, depressing the button and hearing the buzzing sound.

He took his finger off after a few moments, and his mind instantly started telling him he had done the wrong thing. There was no turning back now, he would have to tell her. Seeing her now would make him do nothing but tell her, or run away as fast as possible. Harry was brought back to the present when he heard the click of someone responding to the buzz he just gave.

`Hello, who is it?' Harry heard, his chest radiating at the sound of her voice. Even though it was through an intercom system, her voice just made Harry tingle. He cleared his throat, and moved close to the speaker, where he assumed the microphone was.

`It's me, Harry, can I come up?' he asked. He waited for a response, but instead heard the noise of the door lock opening. Harry took a breath, and determinately pushed on the door, and moved into the entry, and to the stairwell.

Every step echoed in the stairwell as he climbed up. He was at a quick pace now, knowing there was only one direction for him to go. He came out of the stairwell on the second floor, and moved through the doorway, and into the hall. The hallway was carpeted, and the walls painted a warm shade of mustard. As Harry made his way towards Hermione's door, his clothes dripping water all over the maroon carpet, he found his hands shaking. A mix of fear, anxiety, and coldness spread through Harry's body and mind, and sooner than he would like, he was standing in front of the wooden door, marked with the gold numbers 2, 0, and 2. He felt like only five minutes ago he was saying goodnight to his Auror Professors, and putting on his rain cloak.

Harry studied the door, and raised a hand to knock. His fist stood motionless in the air for a moment, and he reassured himself.

This is your Hermione. You have to tell her his mind stated clear and precise. He took a deep breath, as if preparing to dive under water, and knocked twice.

Harry heard shuffling from behind the door, and found his heart was racing. He wasn't prepared for this, not at all. This was the hardest thing he would have to do, harder than fighting Voldemort, harder than passing his Auror entrance exam, harder than anything. `Why couldn't love be easy' he asked himself. The door opened up, and Harry's chest instantly erupted into fire and emotion at the sight.

She was beautiful, beyond beautiful actually. She was something Harry could not describe. To most people, Hermione would probably look tired and ready to go to sleep, however to Harry, she seemed so much more.

Her hair was put simply, the soft brown ripples and waves cascading down the side of her shoulders and back like a chestnut waterfall. Harry dreamt of running his hands through her hair, allowing the fine layers to pass between his fingers. Her face was simple and bright. The way her cheeks sat slightly, yet perfectly rounded, and how they rose with her smile, and the small dimple she had made Harry's heart ache. Her nose was the cutest Harry ever observed on a human being. It was small, but carried the most wonderful and constant curve, which pinnacled to a rounded and smooth end. Her lips, which Harry for years wished to experience against his own, were full, yet nicely balanced with her face. She never wore lipstick, but instead lip gloss, something Harry wished more women would do, because it looked so much better. She was wearing a simple white t-shirt, and blue cotton pajama pants, which in it's simplicity, made the rest of her form look all the more beautiful.

There was one part of Hermione that Harry loved more than any other. It wasn't the curves that drove Harry crazy, and made him feel warmer by the second. It wasn't her hair, or her lips, or that wonderful nose; it was her eyes.

Harry looked into her eyes many times over the years, and just thought of them as Hermione's eyes, brown and simple. Over the last while however, he found they were so much more. They were not a simple brown, but every shade of auburn, chocolate, and hazel. He noticed how they started dark and contrastive on the outer layers, and became warm and soft half way to the pupil. He noticed how the interior burned brighter, and gave the faintest hint of tan and hazel. Her eyes were not just brown, but loving and tender. Through the years, in times of worry and confusion, talking to Hermione had helped, but her eyes did as much, if not more, as her words. Looking into them made Harry drown in the peace and warmth they carried. And no matter how many times he looked into her eyes, and found that tenderness, he knew he would never tire of it.

Harry looked at her, and was surprised by her reaction. At first, she had no noticeable emotion, but after she gave Harry a quick look over, she looked concerned.

`Harry, oh my goodness, what's the matter?' she asked, motioning him to quickly come inside. Harry slowly made his way into their flat, and turned to see Hermione closing and locking the door.

Their flat was small, but a good size for two people, as long as they didn't need a lot of space. The doorway opened up to their sitting room, with the kitchen and a small dining area sitting off to the right. The bedroom and washroom were found down a small hallway that moved off of the sitting room to the left. The walls were all painted white, with various paintings and photos hung around to try and give more colour. Harry looked into the sitting room, and found the noticeably comfortable chair Hermione must have just vacated, the lamp behind lighting it, and a book sitting open on one of the arms. Harry looked back to Hermione, who was still looking at him concerned.

`Harry, what's wrong?' she asked again, sounding very worried. Harry slumped his shoulders again, and looked to the floor.

`I've just been . . . walking' he answered weakly. Hermione reached over, and took off his drenched coat, taking her wand out, and giving a flick, steaming it dry. Once she had gone over it enough, she hung it up and looked back at Harry, who still had his head hanging low, water dripping off his soaked clothes and hair. Being here with Hermione, he thought, would encourage him to tell her, however he found it just reminded him more of how he would be getting his hopes crushed, making him realize that this trip would more than likely end in him feeling worst than he started.

`Harry, what's wrong? Something is bothering you, what is it?' she questioned again. Harry gave a sigh, and his doubt and pessimism started to take over. He was now realizing how bad a decision it was to come here.

`Nothing's wrong. Actually, I should get going home' he said glumly, moving over and making to grab his coat. Hermione however moved in front determinately, and grasped his arm and pulled it back down.

`Harry, don't give me that. You don't just come to my place, totally drenched and shivering cold, to tell me nothing is wrong. Did you and Ginny have a fight?' she guessed. Harry closed his eyes, and sighed again, allowing his head to fall to his chin. He was glad that she wanted to help, but sighed at how monumentally wrong she was with her guess.

`No, we didn't' he answered pessimistically, keeping his eyes closed, giving his forehead a wipe, and rubbing his eyes. He was so tired.

`Well, you're not leaving until you tell me what's wrong' she stated assertively. Harry opened his eyes, and found Hermione looking at him hard.

`No . . . no, this was a bad idea . . . I should . . . I should go' he stuttered, using his other hand to reach for his coat. He was almost there, when Hermione grabbed that arm as well, and pulled it down, making Harry face her directly. Harry looked into her eyes, and found his heart aching painfully as he saw the worry and care in them.

`Please, stay, and talk' she pleaded quietly. Harry thought she sounded as if she was the one with problems, wanting him to stay to hear her talk. He looked down, and found her face sad, but hopeful that he would agree. Harry lowered his head again, and closed his eyes again, taking a few breaths.

His mind was again flashing with memories, this time of Ginny and Hermione, all the while reminding him how he would never be happy. Events with Hermione started flashing more and more, until that was all that ran through Harry's mind. Seeing her after graduation at Hogwarts, or when she got her acceptance to St. Mungo's for Healer training. Harry remembered these moments like they were yesterday, and with each passing memory, he felt his chest hollow more and more, the torment of his love building as his mind kept reminding him of his depressing situation. He gave a sniff, and felt a warm and lonely tear brim on his eye, and fall slowly down his cheek, purposely moving around the water that was already placed on his face, making its path all the more evident.

It was all too much.

`Harry' Hermione whispered. Harry opened his watery eyes slowly, and found Hermione on the verge of crying herself, her eyes pleading as much as her voice for Harry to say something. The sight made Harry feel even worst at what he was about to admit. He took a deep, long sigh, and closed his eyes for a moment. He was about to say something that had been waiting for years to come out. He looked up, right into her eyes. His whole body was shivering, not from the cold, but from what he was about to say.

`I love you Hermione.'

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A/N - Due to complaints lodged against the first ending of this story, even though I strenuously expressed that a sequel would be posted, I have had to remove the first ending that was meant to go with this story.

It will be reposted as Chapter 1 for its sequel, Swallowed In The Sea.

The beginning of this chapter is very much like the other ending chapter, however I shortened, so I wouldn't be repeating myself.

Any lyrics embedded within the story are not mine, and are from the song.

Chapter 3

Tears Stream
Fluff/Romantic Ending

Rain was once again bombarding Harry as he ran down the wet cement steps, and across the empty street. Tears streamed down his face, mixed with the water from the sky, and he continued to run as fast as he could, into the muggle park across the street from Hermione’s flat.

Harry was devastated beyond words. He put all his hopes, all his dreams; everything into this night, and was massively destroyed by the outcome. He never in his entire life felt as low as he did now, running away as fast as he could from the one person he loved the most.

His feet became soaked almost instantaneously from running in the grass, which was permeated with water like an urban swamp. It didn’t matter to Harry though; all he wanted was to get away as fast as he could. He didn’t know where he was running too, but even that didn’t matter; as long as it was away from everyone.

Soon enough, he found himself panting and at a loss for breath. He ran a great distance in a short while, and he slowly came to a walk, which was in actuality more of a stagger.

His shoulders slumped, his head bowed down, and his body and mind totally lost for energy. He stopped walking, closed his eyes, turned his head to the sky, and let the rain cast itself on his face. He could feel the droplets splashing against his cheeks, his nose, and his eyelids, while the water and tears ran down his neck and through his hair. He tried desperately to calm his mind, but fought against his pessimism and depression in vain. His face screwed up in sadness, knowing the reality of what happened, and again his head fell onto his chest. He hiccupped, and his shoulders shuttered as he began to cry.

He told Hermione he loved her, and her reaction was devastating. She didn’t jump for joy, or even slap him in the face; all she did was stare at him, no expression apparent. He looked at her for a moment, and instantly realized her feeling when her expression did begin to show. Slowly, but surely, her face fell, her eye brows moving together slightly, and her eyes told Harry exactly how she was feeling.

She was sad. It was something Harry dreaded to see, and he reacted exactly how his mind was screaming at him to do: to run. Run away as fast, and far as possible, without looking back. He knew as he ran that he destroyed everything; his friendships, his hopes, and his dreams. All of it was mangled beyond repair, and he had no one to blame but himself.

As Harry’s mind tormented him with this, he could not stop himself, and he broke down entirely. He lost the two people he cared about the most; Ron and Hermione, with this one, horrible act. He knew they could never be replaced, and that this night’s actions would haunt him forever.

Harry put hands to his face, and felt his knees buckle. He felt totally alone now. The rain battered down at him from the clouds above, and just as he could feel himself about to fall over, he heard a squishing sound coming from behind him. It sounded like someone was running through the park, and when Harry turned around, he felt a pang rip through his chest.

Hermione was running towards him. Even though he was far away from the lights that glowed over the pathways, he could see she was drenched. Her hair was matted, and swung behind her as she dashed towards Harry.

He turned around, and started walking away slowly. He didn’t want to hear any explanation about why the one last wish he had could never come true. He saw her reaction, and that told more than any words. Hearing any explanation would just hurt him more, and he couldn’t take it.

‘Harry! Harry wait!’ she yelled as she approached. Harry stopped, and let his head hang low. His mind was still telling him to run away, now even louder than before; yet his heart was pleading with him to stay. For the longest time he followed his head, and it only led him to burying his emotions. Tonight he finally allowed his heart to guide his actions, and it only caused pain. Yet even now, as he stood--cold, wet, and broken--he could not ignore his heart’s pleads.

He turned around slowly, and glanced up to see Hermione. As he started from her feet, which were soaked in a pair of house shoes, his eyes moved upwards, seeing her waterlogged pants, which stuck to her legs. Her shirt, which Harry already loved when he saw it in the flat, was clinging to her, and he felt himself become both warm, from seeing her beautiful curves so clearly, and cold, from realizing he would never be able to caress them. When he moved to her face, he felt a new surge of misery hit his mind, and his heart.

Her face was still perfectly clear, yet covered in raindrops and streams of water. She looked sad beyond words, and he felt absolutely terrible for his actions this night. She was crying profusely, and took deep, sobbing breaths.

‘What do you want Hermione?’ Harry quaked. His voice was raspy with all the crying he had done, and was still doing. Hermione wiped her face, and looked at Harry, while the rain continued to fall.

‘Is it true, do you l-love me?’ she asked quietly, stuttering over the last two words, as if pained to say. Harry looked to the ground as new tears came, his eyes hurting from so many tears falling. Not only did she question if he meant it, she could barely admit what he said in the first place.

Harry didn’t bother to say anything, knowing he would be unable to, and nodded. He glanced at her for a moment, and saw one of her hands reaching up to her mouth. He looked back down to the soaked grass below him, and he knew he needed to get away from this.

‘I need t- . . . I need to go’ Harry uttered, beginning to turn away.

‘Harry wait’ Hermione said pleadingly. Harry, turn his head, and looked at her.

Swiftly, she walked over with a determination he never saw in her, and planted a huge kiss on his lips. The smell of honeysuckle from her hair and skin, along with the taste of strawberries and the salt from her tears enveloped Harry. His eyes open wide in surprise, closed gratefully, and he wrapped his arms around her, her arms moving around his neck.

She pushed up against him, and he pulled her in, his mind forgetting all his problems, and falling into the moment in its entirety. He could feel the rain falling on him, and moving down his face as they deepened their kiss, and began to explore each others drenched bodies. He could feel his eyes still shedding tears, feeling so wonderful to be experiencing Hermione like he had many times in his dreams.

Harry felt her arch as he pushed against her lower back, and he pressed firmly, her body coming into full contact with his. The response to the move was immediate to Harry, but he was so focused on Hermione and the kiss that he really did not notice it. Her aroma, her taste, and her touch were all Harry knew in the world right now. Nothing else existed.

Hermione, very slowly, moved her hands to Harry’s face, and rubbed his tear streaked cheeks. She slowed the kiss, which Harry agreed to, and it became a kiss not of fiery passion, but of slow and longing love. They slowed to such a pace that Harry thought time was standing still. Even the rain slowed, falling at a slower pace.

They held their lips together in the end, and separated slowly; their lips sticking together. Harry took a deep breath, and for the first time that night, smiled as Hermione did the same.

She lowered herself, however kept her hands on his face. She was still crying, worst than before actually, but smiling the whole time. Her tender auburn eyes stuck to Harry as if he was the only thing to exist in the universe. Harry warmly moved one of his hands around, and wiped her cheek. She closed her eyes, and leaned her face into Harry’s hand, taking in a deep breath of the moisture filled air. She rubbed his cheek, and moved his head closer to hers, so they were almost nose to nose. She was so beautiful, even when crying.

‘I love you too Harry’ she quivered.

Harry’s chest back flipped with her words, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. The five words he wished for years to hear from Hermione, and she just said them. He never wanted this moment to end.

‘Oh Harry, I love you so’ she whispered passionately, and she pulled Harry down, and lashed another deep kiss on Harry. Harry, feeling so wonderful and full of life, picked her up, and slowly revolved on the spot. She squeaked as they turned, and he laughed as their tongues moved in their fervent and longing dance. He let her down gently, and they once again slowed and separated, both parting for a moment, then grinning at each other.

‘Can we go inside? My feet are soaked’ Hermione asked quietly, still recovering her breath and motioning to her feet which--were indeed--drenched. Harry’s mind, at the mentioning of inside, came to a dead halt, and his stomach began to twist.

‘What about Ron?’ he questioned darkly. The thought of Ron made Harry feel terrible, at what he did and what they were currently doing. Hermione, to Harry’s amazement, smiled and looked up at Harry.

‘We broke up three weeks ago’ she informed, moving up and giving Harry a light kiss, while Harry’s eyes once again grew wide. He looked down at her for reassurance that she wasn’t joking, and she nodded to his unasked question.

‘We didn’t tell anyone. That’s why he left, he wanted some time alone. He’s alright though Harry, he owls every day’ she explained softly. Harry felt torn, feeling bad for Ron and Hermione, but also happy at his own revelations. Hermione sensed his inner conflicted, and draped her hands around Harry’s cold and soaked shoulders, her brown eyes looking deeply into Harry’s green eyes.

‘Let’s go back, we can talk more’ she suggested again. Harry nodded his head, and she moved her arms, and took hold of his hand. They walked back to Hermione’s flat in quietness, reveling in the sound of the rain and the darkness of the night, accented with the amber glow of the clouds above them. They made their way back to Hermione’s flat, and once again, Harry felt himself shaking when entering.

Once they entered, Hermione slowly turned around, and embraced Harry in a hug. Harry, shaking from the cold, hugged Hermione tightly, and she reacted to his shivers.

‘You’re freezing, come and sit down’ she said quickly. Harry moved into the sitting room, and sat down on one of the couches. Hermione took a dark blue cozy looking blanket from next to her chair in the corner, and snuggled up close to Harry on the couch, laying the blanket over the two of them.

She cuddled up to Harry, closing her eyes and again taking a deep breath, and Harry followed suite. He felt so perfect with Hermione like this, sitting on a comfortable couch, a dull light shading the entire room. Her touch was like a warming fire to Harry, and her scent . . . was just intoxicating to Harry. He opened his eyes, looked at Hermione, who was gazing up at him, and he fell into her eyes.

Harry understood now why she looked sad before. It was not really sad, but just so surprised and joyous. He never really thought she would be so joyful for his admission to appear sad, but that was her reaction. She was so full of bliss that she actually cried, and it was the crying that made her look sad.

‘How long?’ Hermione asked softly, still looking closely at him. Harry couldn’t get away from her eyes. He was lost in the beautiful colour of tree trunks, the dark and mysterious shades of coffee, and the warm and soothing dye of chocolate; all mixed together, and some how kept within the confines of her eyes.

‘Forever’ Harry whispered, still unbelievably lost in her eyes. Her lips turned into a smile, and Harry pulled himself out of the pool of auburn, and smiled at her beautiful dimples on her cheeks. They both leaned in, and shared a short, but longing kiss. They parted, and moved even closer together, their noses rubbing against each other playfully.

‘You?’ Harry said. Under the blanket, Harry’s hands were wrapped around Hermione’s form, firmly pressed against her sides. He was stroking her curves soothingly, causing shivers of excitement to run through his body. Her legs were pressed next to Harry’s, which were laying on the couch. One of her hands was placed behind Harry’s head playing with his hair slowly, and the other on his lap, causing even more shivers. He wouldn’t be surprised if she took off the blanket, a plume of steam would come off him.

‘I’ll let you wonder’ she said playfully. Harry lowered his glance, and Hermione did the same, unable to keep herself from laughing. Harry leaned over, and they closed off the world again with another kiss. Harry push in, and Hermione pulled him down, so he lay down on her, the blanket wrapped around and somewhat between them.

Harry felt nothing but the opposite of what he did in the rain, and earlier that night. He was actually kissing Hermione, and she was responding with just as much pent up love and emotion. He was warm now, bordering on hot from all their kissing and lying so close to her, wanting to get as close as he could.

Hermione pulled her hands up his back, and allowed her fingers to scrape his shirt. The move caused Harry to feel a shiver of pleasure run though him, and he attacked Hermione with his lips, pushing still deeper and allowing his hands to explore her lustful and aching curves. Just as she again pressed her fingers into Harry’s back, yearning him to persist, he pulled up, and looked at her closely.

‘How long?’ he asked teasingly. Harry grinned at her evilly, and she chuckled, reaching behind Harry’s head and pulling him back down.

‘Forever’ she breathed, grinning back, and kissing Harry. The two of them beamed at each other, and lay back on the couch.

Harry allowed his head to relax, and he rested it next to Hermione’s, seeing her angelic expression; a mixture of happiness and pleasure. She turned slightly so she could see Harry.

'What about Ginny?' she asked sorrowfully. Harry's face fell, but it lasted only a moment.

'She should know, but I'll talk to her' he said. Hermione still did not look happy like before, and Harry moved her face in line with his, rubbing her cheek. 'This is what matters Hermione. Ginny will be alright, just like Ron' he reassured.

He didn't want to loose the happiness of the night to regret for their actions. Hermione looked at Harry for a moment, and nodded, the two sharing a kiss, and Harry unable to keep himself from giggling afterwards, having Hermione so close, and being so overjoyed. She smiled at Harry, and snuggled against him, pushing thoughts of Ginny and Ron out.

‘Why tonight?’ she asked after a few moments of laying in each other's arms. Harry smiled, and remembered the sight on the street earlier that night.

‘Lights guided me.’

A/N - Again folks, the first ending (angst/sequel ending and the one that was meant to go with this story) has been moved to Chapter 1 of Swallowed In The Sea due to complaints posted to Portkey staff. Please go there and read for the angst ending. If you liked this story, you'd probably like it too!

Please review, and let me know what you thought of this ending?