Author's Notes: I've been sitting on this fic for ages, as I've never been able to find song lyrics that fitted it. And then, whilst playing random songs, I fully listened to 'Hollywood and Vine' by Matchbook Romance. And it all fitted in with this fic. So I hope you enjoy J And I hope you also leave really nice reviews ;)
~*~
The sky looks like patchwork
Stitched just enough so the sky won't fall on top of us
It's alright
Their eyes met across the hotel lobby and for a long moment they just stood perfectly still and stared, oblivious to the passing people and the stares.
It was strange that here, of all places, they would meet. A thousand miles from home. Symbolic, perhaps, of the journey they had both taken to be there at that moment.
'Hi,' he said, walking towards her slowly.
She smiled almost shyly, walking towards him.
'Hi.'
For the first time in eight years he saw the girl he had once considered his closest confidant. His closest friend. But that was eight long years ago now, even though it seemed like longer.
'Would you like to talk a walk with me?'
She nodded and for a moment they were still, before he indicated to the large glass doors that lead out onto the busy city street, underneath a twilight sky that was so beautifully coloured that it looked unreal.
They walked side by side, in perfect step with each other, their hands brushing occasionally, each contact sending electricity through their entire bodies.
'How's Ginny?' she finally asked as they walked through the park in front of a train station. Harry grimaced.
'Wouldn't know.'
'Didn't you…'
Harry didn't need to hear the end of the question. It was the same thing they had fought about eight years ago. More like what they had tried to fight about, but never really could.
'Would I be here if I did?'
'I just thought…'
'Should we head back? It's getting darker,' he said, almost bitterly, his words coming out harsher than what he had hoped for. He just couldn't talk about it… not with her… not just yet…
Hermione looked at him, dejectedly, before nodding. She couldn't deny that it was a painful subject for both of them… so much had transpired and so little had been said…
The hotel was the same as when they left it and they headed for the elevators together and Hermione hit the button for the seventh floor.
'Would you…'
'Yes,' he replied quickly. He didn't know how or why, but even after eight years apart, they were still so in sync with each other. He couldn't explain it. He never had been able to explain it. It was just them. Harry and Hermione. Hermione and Harry.
The city was covered in gold
And made out of dreams
Everything we wanted was within our reach tonight
She opened the door to her room and they stepped inside, the only light coming from the buildings outside, their lights reflecting through the half opened curtains.
'I've missed you.'
And we stood
Tip-toed
Eyes-glued at the scene
And the realization that
Harry didn't have words. In a single step he was in front of her, his hands cupping her face, his lips pressed forcefully against hers. For a split second, he thought she was going to pull away and reject what was natural, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him even closer…
They stumbled awkwardly together, finding the bed with Harry's legs and they fell onto it, never once breaking contact with their lips. Harry's hands worked furiously at the buttons on her blouse and hers did the same with his shirt, making him suddenly grateful that he hadn't worn a t-shirt like he had planned too, as that would have made the contact end.
The first feeling of her delicate fingers on his chest made Harry groan and she followed him soon after as his fingers grazed her nipples through the thin material of her bra. Their shirts were on the floor, her bra followed and they broke apart and took a deep breath.
It was then Harry realized that they had said so little to each other since they had seen each other and nothing at all since he had kissed her.
Words would have to wait. They had never really needed them anyway.
He rolled them over, so that he was on top of her and unzipped her very lady like skirt and threw it over his shoulder. Her simple white panties followed and he ran a hand over her furry patch and made her groan again.
Everything was so clear
And plain to see
This is where I belong you can't take me
He was back where he belonged. One finger slipped in slowly, followed by a second and soon she was groaning and sliding her hips up and down, clenching the sheets tightly.
Just as she seemed ready to reach her peak, he stopped and just stared into her eyes. Teasing was a favorite game of their and he knew she would have her revenge. She sat up and wrapped herself around him, so they were both sitting and somehow maneuvered him around so that he was laying flat on his back, without any pants. He didn't even remember them being taken off.
Her tongue circled the tip of his penis three times and Harry moaned much louder than he had planned too. But that only caused a grin to spread across her face, as she licked up and down the sides, rather like she was enjoying a fine ice-cream. She then took him fully in her mouth and let him slide as far as he could into her mouth, before pulling herself away and straddling him, looking straight into his eyes.
The feeling of sliding into her properly almost sent Harry straight over the edge. She closed her eyes and let out a very long sigh as she deftly moved herself in such a familiar rhythm on top of him. Fast, slow, slow, fast, fast, fast, slow, slow, slow…
Harry couldn't restrain himself much longer. He was bucking against her, pushing himself as far in as he could. He was tingling all over, he was calling her name, she was calling out his… and they both let go at once…
Spent, they lay on their backs and stared at the ceiling. Harry knew this wasn't what he was expecting when he'd seen her this morning, but given their past, he should have figured it.
The year that should have been their final at Hogwart's was spent on the run around the country, searching for the elusive Horcruxes so they could destroy Voldemort. They were teenagers and on their own without guardians. They felt so free.
They had been in a small village, where Voldemort had waged a terrible war many years ago, when things first changed. Ron had drunk too many whiskies in the pub and had passed out in one of the two rooms they had at the local inn. Harry, unable to put up with his drunken snoring and talking, had sought refuge in Hermione's room. Things had been getting hard for them and Harry was despairing.
And Hermione was there. They had shared a wonderful night that night, a first and very special night for both. And they had both agreed that it would remain a once only thing and be kept just between them.
But it had happened several times post that, all when Ron was occupied or absent. He didn't know of this new development and nor did they want him too. Ron's feelings for Hermione were very obvious, as was her lack of feelings for him. She had confessed to Harry that for a period in their sixth year at Hogwarts she had entertained the idea of herself and Ron, but that it just didn't seem to be right.
Then, after eighteen long months and a grueling battle in which so many died, their job was done. The Horcruxes had been destroyed and so had Voldemort. The wizarding world celebrated Harry Potter's final triumph, but few noticed just how tortured the young hero was. He was torn between two worlds and two people.
In the glorious first post-war days, his relationship with Ginny had been rekindled. Everyone thought it was the story book ending- he'd ended the war and got the girl. He was welcomed into the Weasley family even more than he already had been and he was swept up in the hysteria surrounding the end of the war.
But inside he was aching for one last night with Hermione. His Hermione. His Hermione who had returned to her muggle parents, to make up for the time that she lost with them whilst she was out trying to save a world they didn't understand. His Hermione who he had shared so much with, but who he, for reasons he didn't understand, couldn't share his life with. She had always been so adamant that they maintain an exterior of friendship only, and he had always obeyed her wish, even though it was against his own wishes.
Perhaps that was why he found it so easy to slip back to Ginny- Hermione wasn't there and no one except them knew what they really were. Or had been. And he needed someone and Ginny was waiting for him, as she had for years.
It was three months before he managed to find the time to visit her at her parents. And he wasn't surprised when she was cool with him. Too cool, even for Hermione. She had heard, of course, about his relationship with Ginny. And had heard the rumours that it was more serious than what they were letting on. He knew he should have talked to her first, made sure she was ok with what was going on. But he had been so swept up in everything, that it just never seemed the right time. And besides, he had reasoned with himself, they were only friends, per her request. Why did he have to explain himself to her?
'Are you going to marry her?' she'd asked him bluntly as they sat in her childhood bedroom. Harry hesitated- it was what everyone wanted and most days he thought he wanted it too… but looking into her sad eyes, he knew he didn't really want to. A part of him loved Ginny like he should, but that part was very small and growing smaller by the minute as he looked at Hermione.
'I don't really have a choice,' he'd said and she laughed.
'Yes you do. You of all people should know that you always have a choice.'
And now here Harry was, in Australia, in a hotel, laying on a hard, uncomfortable bed after having the best sex of his life with a woman he had been loving in secret for so many years.
And he had no idea of what to do next. He was terrified.
I was fooling myself all along
I'm never coming back
I'm never coming back
I'm home
Hermione curled herself into his shoulder and he placed a protective arm around her as he stared the ceiling, like her still lost in thought.
She couldn't deny that she had been expecting something like this for all those years. So many things had been left unsaid when they had parted ways. So much that should have been said and dealt with. But they couldn't have done it back then. They were so young, only babies really. They needed to grow, and learn and feel, before they could deal properly with the thoughts and feelings that grew inside of each of them for the other.
She now knew, from his words earlier, that he had never gone through with the marriage to Ginny. She had always known, somewhere inside that he wouldn't. The day that he'd told her that he didn't have a choice but to marry her, she knew that there was no love. Ginny had only ever wanted to be with the fantasy of Harry Potter.
Hermione wanted to be with the man, Harry Potter.
And Harry just wanted to be loved and he seemed to not care where that love came from.
In the years that had passed she had taken great comfort in reliving the memories of those stolen nights that they had shared. She'd had several lovers since as she moved around with her work, but none had compared to Harry. None had cared enough for her. And they were never around for long enough, and neither was she. She had been moving around for years, researching a variety of things for different ministries or scholars. It was a nice life that she led, one that excited her to her fullest extent.
And we drove
What felt like forever
Down this street
And stopped at the edge of the earth
'I was going to write.'
Harry broke the silence, but didn't remove his gaze from the ceiling.
'Pardon?'
'I was going to write to you, and tell you that it wasn't going ahead.'
Hermione turned her head and looked up at his face.
'Why would you do that?'
'Because you should have known.'
'I knew,' she confessed. 'I knew since before the engagement. I can read you well and I just knew.'
'Wish you had've told me,' he said bitterly and they laughed. 'Could've saved me a lot of shit.'
When his laughter had died down, she sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, cradling her head in her hands.
'Where do we go from here?' she asked. Harry sat up too and looked at her naked back, her bushy brown hair falling down it gracefully.
'Where do you want to go? I don't know of any good restaurants.'
'That wasn't what I meant.'
'I know.'
Silence encompassed them again.
'I've always loved you.'
It looks beautiful from here
The words slipped from Harry's mouth before he realized what he was saying. She looked up, surprised. They'd never used the 'love' word before.
'That first night, I remember sitting on that bed much like we are now, clothed of course, and just staring at you, taking in every inch of how beautiful you are. It hit me then, like a ton of bricks. I'd always known it, through our years of friendship, but I wasn't willing to admit it, even too myself.'
He paused and lay back down, looking at the ceiling.
'Everything was just so confusing when the war ended. And you weren't there.'
'But she was,' Hermione said softly.
'It seemed right at the time. And it made everyone happy. Except for me.'
'So what actually happened?' she asked and Harry sighed.
'We were in the middle of wedding plans. She was so excited. I was getting excited, but then I went out one night with Remus and Arthur. And they were talking about how they'd felt before they got married and I realized that I felt none of that,' he sighed again. 'I went to the Burrow the next day and the entire place was strewn with wedding things. Fabric samples, menu samples, flower samples… it overwhelmed me and I knew what I was doing and I knew it was a mistake.'
'How did she take it?'
'I never actually had to say anything,' he confessed. 'Three days later we went out to dinner and she just came out and said it- said that she knew I didn't love her like I should. And that I shouldn't try and force myself, she was ok about it. We ate our dinner in silence and then went our separate ways. I haven't seen her in seven years.'
Silence again.
'Does she know about…'
'No. She never knew. Well, I never told her. I'm assuming she figured it out, she's good like that.'
Hermione repositioned herself so she was laying beside him.
'I never really gave up on you,' she said, deciding it was obviously the right time for confessions. 'Not having you in my life killed me nearly. I was angry for a very long time that you ended up with her instead of me. I wanted to knock on your door and tell you that it was obvious that we were meant to be. But I didn't want to wreck your marriage, or what was supposed to be or going to be a marriage. And so I moved on.'
'Moved on?'
'Moved on from my anger. I stopped hating you. You never did anything to cause it- we were never actually a couple. We were friends with benefits. Except for the fact that I loved you and never had the guts to tell you.'
Harry wanted to laugh, knowing that if they'd had this conversation eight years before, they could've avoided so much. He tilted his head slightly and kissed her on the forehead.
This is a place we dreamed of
A place made up in our heads
We thought we'd never see
'So, what comes next?'
'Sleep,' she said softly, yawning slightly.
'And then?'
'We'll worry about that when it happens.'
'But what if…'
'I'm not going to let you get away again.'
'And what about…'
'I don't care about other people. I care about you. And I care about making up for all these years that we've missed.'
And with that, he rolled over so that he was curled into the shape of her body, his head buried in his hair. Where he should have been for the past eight years. Where they both should have been.
But here I am
Eyes blinded by painted smiles
We lived a lifetime that night
Everything was so clear
And plain to see
This is where I belong you can't take me
I was fooling myself all along
I'm never coming back
I'm never coming back
I'm home