Fix You by circinusphoenix

Rating: PG
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 28/01/2007
Last Updated: 12/02/2007
Status: Completed

After Harry destroys Voldemort, the wizarding world is overjoyed. Everyone is content and happy
with how the world is changing, and settling down, yet Harry is not. He tried his hardest, and he
got what he wanted, but it wasn’t necessarily what he needed. He is starting to realize, after all
he has gone through and all that has happened, that the person that he always longed for, the
person he needs right now more than ever in his life, is in fact engaged to his best
friend.*****Please see Chapter 1 of Swallowed In The Sea for Angst ending*****




1. Stuck in Reverse
-------------------



**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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2. If You Never Try
-------------------



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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3. Tears Stream (Fluff/Romantic Ending)
---------------------------------------

**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?**