A/N: I'm uploading this one quicker than planned (I was originally trying to keep to at least a bi-weekly schedule...) because I feel I owe my faithful readers, what few there are, something. Just a little altruistic I guess.
By the end of this chapter we're back to normal time, as promised. The last time shift is near the end and takes us back to the end of chapter four. From here on out if we go sometime else I'll be sure to warn you and, if you've made it this far, thank you for wading through this little expreiment of mine. ^_^
This is also the end of the short chapters. From here on I intend to make them twice this size. But they seemed the best size for all the jumping around.
And, the last bit. This is the start of the colored thoughts. Each character has a specific color to their thoughts, not a foreign concept here on Portkey, and it's as much to help you when reading as it is to help me when writing. Here's the guide:
Harry = blue
Hermione = green
Ron = red
Ginny = orange
Further, each character's family will match thought color, should the need arise:
Weasley: red
Black: black
Longbottom: purple (don't know why...)
Dumbledore: yellow
With all of that said... r, r & r!
~~*~~
She had just walked on to the landing when the door to Godric's Hollow opened. Harry stood there, mouth agape.
"H-Hermione!" He looked her up and down, appraising her like a piece of art.
"It's not polite to stare" she admonished. She was inwardly grateful for the attention. She appraised him as well, noticing that without his robes on he was quite handsome and well built. Age had been both a blessing and a curse for him. He had a few scars on his neck and arms. A few more were visible behind the tight black t-shirt he wore, namely the x-shaped one over his heart. She stepped forward and locked him in a tight embrace, something she wasn't allowed to do at Hogwarts. "Aren't you going to invite me in?" she asked, looking up at him with a pouty face.
"Oh, yeah, come in" he said, stepping back to let her in through the doorway. He continued to look at her as she passed, noticing the gentle curve of her waist and her lovely bottom. "You look fantastic by the way" he said.
"So do you, Harry."
He led her in to the living room and showed her a seat. "Drink? I've got Butterbeer, Ogden's, some muggle scotch, anyth-"
"If I didn't know better I'd say you were trying to get me drunk! Tea will be fine, though a spike of brandy wouldn't be bad."
He smiled. "If I didn't know better I'd say you wanted to get drunk" he poked at her.
"Well, a little drink won't hurt now, will it?"
"No, I guess not."
Harry walked in to the kitchen to fetch some tea and Hermione found herself admiring his arse through his shorts. Oh, damn it! Stop that, Hermione! You've only just broken it off with Ron, you can't start looking at Harry! she chided herself. But he really does have a nice arse.
Harry brought out a silver serving tray with tea, cups, milk, sugar and a very old looking bottle of brandy. He caught Hermione eying the bottle. "Mum kept it, I guess. It's from the sixties. Very potent stuff." He removed the cork from the neck of the bottle and proffered it to Hermione for approval.
She inhaled the aroma deeply and savored the buttery, spicy scent. "Smells fantastic." She put the bottle to the cup and poured out a measure, then tossed it back. "Hoo, that's something else!" she said as the back of her throat warmed to the alcohol. "That's some good stuff, that is."
"Thanks" Harry said, slightly awed by her candor. "Didn't think you drank like that anymore."
"I'm allowed, aren't I?" she said, a small, short-lived smile playing on her lips.
He knew her too well. The smile was a farce, but he also knew better than to ask outright what was wrong. He'd just bide his time and let her tell him when she was ready. He poured her a cup of tea just how she liked it: white, one sugar but with a splash of brandy this time. Then he poured himself a cup, black with a shot.
They sat there for a short while, just enjoying each other's company and looking out the bay window to the sunset. "Why don't we go outside?" she asked suddenly.
"Sure" he said questioningly. He put his cup down, the kettle and made his way to the back door. She'd grabbed the brandy and was already halfway to the back door. He stopped long enough to grab a bottle of scotch and a glass, filled it with ice, and joined Hermione on the back porch. The moon was rising early, ¾ on the wax and the eastern sky was a cool, pale blue, just deepening in to night blue and clear. It was clear and cool, but comfortable being an early September evening.
"Okay, I've waited long enough" he said as he placed the kettle next to her. "What's wrong?" He regarded her face for a moment and noticed a small tear escape her left eye. He sat down across from her, but on the edge of the chair. "Hermione?"
She reached up and smoothed the tear away at the bottom. "Nothing, just thinking."
"Hey, that's my line. When did you become so guarded around me?" He'd just noticed she wouldn't look him in the eye. "What's wrong?" he asked imploringly.
She took a deep sip of her tea and swallowed, but remained quiet for a minute. "Ron and I split up."
"What?!"
"It was two weeks ago, right before exams. We got in to an argument about me teaching. He was mad because he didn't think I was supportive enough of his Quidditch playing. I'm not one of those other bints who hangs around the players for the acclaim! I don't like the game, damn it! And I can't go to every one of his games. I've got classes! He knows how important my job is to me!" She started to cry, something Harry could never stand.
He stood from chair and pulled the cup from her hands. He took a seat next to her on the swinging bench. She instinctively laid her head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her. "Hermione, he knows. But you guys broke up over this? I thought you were doing better than that!"
"Well, we were. At least, I thought ~sniff we were. He was starting to get seriously pissed that I wouldn't go to every game of his. I mean, I couldn't! I can't blow off my classes just because he has 'the most important game of the season'! Every game is the most important, at least to him. ~sniff I go when I can but I can't go to them all. The thing the really set him off was when I told him ~sniff I couldn't go to the finals."
"You're not going to the finals? Now I really feel like crap. I told him I couldn't go because of end of term tests. The semis are going on right now so I'd be missing most of it anyway. Besides, I don't really want to go to Czechoslovakia. It's just too damned far away for me right now. I was looking forward to a nice, relaxing week after the end of the term."
"Well, I'm going to Tokyo with my parents next week. They've had the trip planned for a while and I just hadn't said anything until recently." She'd stopped crying but was still sniffling a little. "They want me to go with them and I've always wanted to see Tokyo. I was hoping to do some research on the Japanese magics while I was there, in preparation for next year. They're supposed to have really cool potions and herbs there. But it doesn't matter, I don't think I can be happy while I'm there now."
"Hermione" Harry consoled. He pulled her in to a tight embrace. He pulled her face up and wiped her tears and smeared mascara away. "God, you look like hell" he said, a mirthful smile on his face.
"Thanks" she hit him. "Nice to see I can count on you to make me feel better." She laid her head on his chest and seemed to relax a little. A slight breeze picked up her hair, which had gotten a little more straight and a lot softer over the years.
He stroked her hair lovingly for a while, reveling in the feeling. Merlin, he thought, I forgot just how beautiful she was. He bent down and placed a kiss on the top of her head.
She looked up at him and met his brilliant, deep green eyes. They were striking against his tanned skin. When did he get a tan? It suits him well. Shit, stop thinking like that! She closed her eyes tightly for a moment. When she opened them he was still looking at her, as though trying to see in to her mind through her eyes. He looked like he wanted something, or wanted to ask something. She shifted her body so she was lying on her back with her head on his lap. "What is it?"
He looked down at her, contemplating. He let his arm fall across her stomach and realized how soft her skin was, how toned her muscles were. He couldn't resist giving her sides a pinch. She jumped and almost fell off the bench of the swing.
"Don't do that!" she screamed, getting clumsily to her feet. "You know how ticklish I am!"
He looked back at her impishly. "Yes, I seem to remember something about that... your stomach was the worst, wasn't it?" he said, taking a step towards her, hands held out in mock menace, flexing his fingers.
"Harry James Potter, don't you dare!" she said, backing away slowly. He started to lunge and she turned, ready to run, but it was too late. His large hands had wrapped their way around her stomach and he was tickling her furiously. "Harry... Harry, don't ~giggle... Harry... HARRY!"
His hand had strayed north a few inches and found the bottom of her breast. He'd stopped immediately and pulled his hands back. His face was brilliantly red. "I'm sorry!" he said quickly.
She hadn't turned around. She was frozen, though not dumbfounded. Instead she found herself unable to control her mind. It raced through a thousand scenarios, each one more lurid than the last. She shut her eyes tightly and tried to block the images but she was unsuccessful. She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. "It's alright, you just startled me" she lied. In all actuality she'd enjoyed it on a deep level, a thought she detested thoroughly. God, now I've done it! I'll never be able to sleep tonight!
"Maybe we should go inside. I'll take your stuff to your room" said a somber voice behind her.
"It's alright, I didn't bring much with me. I've got it shrunk in my purse. I'd just like to take a shower and get some sleep." Yeah, sleep, that's it... She turned and walked towards the door, meeting his eyes for only a second.
Apparently that's all it took. He reached for her arm, catching her by the elbow. She stopped in her tracks, her heart now racing. "What are you-" but she was cut off.
Harry pulled her close and stared in to her eyes. Their noses were millimeters apart and she could feel his breath on her lips. He smelled like scotch and a cologne she couldn't identify. But it was divine as far as she was concerned. He was staring in to her eyes, as far as the back of her head. He was looking for something. And he must have found it. He pulled her closer and tilted his head, placing his soft, hot lips on hers. She was startled at first, but felt something warm her, sending the butterflies in her stomach away instantly. She felt his mustache on her face, his breath hot on her cheek. She relaxed herself, falling closer in to him and returned his kiss with passionate, but subdued, intent.
He parted his mouth and hers matched the movement. This wasn't some teenage snogging kiss. This was a kiss that had been brewing for 14 years, full of love, concern, care and longing. It was passionate and warm, without urgency or thought to what would happen. It was the type of kiss that he thought could stop time. But it didn't.
She pulled away, though visibly perturbed. "Harry, why did you... what was... that-" and she was interrupted again.
This time he was more forceful. She wanted to resist but couldn't. Or did she want to resist? This is what I've been wanting isn't it? She decided to find out and gave in. She snaked her arms around his neck and returned the gesture fervently. She parted her lips and sought out his tongue. He tasted like scotch and something else she couldn't identify, something feral, she thought. Whatever it was it was fantastic. She relished the feel of his body, the smell of his skin, the taste of him. Of Harry.
She was pulling herself up by his neck. He grabbed her by her sides and pulled himself closer. He was enveloped in her completely. Her skin smelled of Jasmine and lilac and was soft as rose petals. He felt the scar on her side from a boot knife that had been kicked at her. He slid his hands down her sides to her hips, finding the hem of her skirt. He pulled her closer, his groin pressing in to her pelvis. His breathing had become deeper, more full, as had hers. He moved his hand to the back of her head, wrapping his fingers in her hair, gripped tighter...
"What the bloody fucking hell!" yelled Ron.
Harry and Hermione broke their embrace, though not completely. They both regarded their mutual friend, one with remorse, one with a little fear. "Ron" Hermione said, her voice shaking. "Ron, what... what you... um..."
"Ron!" Harry said, taken aback. He realized his hand was still on her hip, sitting just above her arse. He pulled away instinctively, taking a step back, and regarded his friend with trepidation. "Ron, what are you doing here?" He managed to keep his voice calm, but just barely.
"I might ask her the same fucking question, but I think it's pretty damned obvious, isn't it?!" His face was red, very red. His hands were balled in to tight fists and he looked ready to fight. He lifted a hand and pointed a menacing finger at Harry. "What the fuck were you doing?!"
Harry couldn't answer. His mind had stalled completely and he was unable to think clearly. He could still taste her, smell her on him. His mind was reeling from years of pent up emotion and it was clouding his mind. He needed to put a stop to that. He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering his Occlumency training, and pushed everything he could out. He looked at Hermione. "Could you leave us alone for a bit?" he asked.
She looked at him, expressionless at first. She momentarily considered her response and resigned herself to the truth. "Yes." She didn't even look at Ron. For reasons she couldn't explain she couldn't bring herself to regard him. She walked through the house, grabbed her things, and walked out the front door. She thought for a minute while she walked to the edge of the protective barriers before deciding where she needed to go. "I need to talk to someone" she muttered to herself. Ginny. Ginny will listen. Yes, Ginny was always there when she needed someone to talk to. "I just hope she'll listen this time" she worried. Then she disapparated and found herself outside her friend's flat in London.
"Come inside, Ron, and have a drink" Harry said. He walked to the back door, stopping to grab the bottle of scotch and poured himself a glass as he made his way through the kitchen. He sat in his favorite chair and waited for the shitstorm to start.
~
Harry wrapped his arms tighter around her, pulling her closer to him. He held her tightly, letting her know he was there for her. "Hermione, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. I didn't know it would cause all of this."
"Harry, it's not all your fault you know. I could have pushed back, could have pushed you away. But I didn't want to. I wanted this too, you know." She'd been crying in to his arms for a few minutes now, and was starting to calm down. She shifted to her side, pulled her legs up and curled her arms around his shoulders. She didn't want to let him go, but she knew that things would cascade if she didn't. Right now, she didn't care.
He pulled one of his arms free and brushed her hair away from her face. He cupped her cheek and stroked her face gently, wiping away the tears. "I'm sorry, but not for what I did. Just for what it caused. Hermione," he pushed her away so she could turn to face him, "I love you. I always have. I just haven't admitted to myself, or to you, how much until just recently. I love you more than just a friend." He breathed deeply, trying to keep his emotions at bay so he could explain to her what he was feeling, what he'd been feeling for a very long time.
"Harry, I love you too" she interrupted. "More than you know. When everything finished years ago, Ron was just there for me. He'd changed, a lot. He was more considerate, more kind to me than he ever had been. I was still in love with him so I was confused. The way Ginny acted I thought the two of you would get back together forever. So I dismissed my feelings for you and concentrated on Ron."
"It was good with Ginny for a while, but it didn't work out. I haven't had anyone serious since her though. And lately I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I've been thinking back to that night at the Cauldron, when you walked in wearing that gorgeous outfit."
Harry closed his eyes and tried hard to remember every detail.
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