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Caught in the Past by hhragent27
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Caught in the Past

hhragent27

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DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. does, and she has every right to do whatever she thinks is best for Harry Potter. I just love writing. So sue me. Wait, seriously… don't.

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"So they have been found." Tom Riddle played with his wine, watching the content touch the rim of the glass, staining the sides red. He set it down and crossed his fingers. "You had been hasty in giving me the news, Peter."

Peter bowed. "It was not difficult, my lord. The servants had been talking about their discovery, as well as an imminent wedding."

That was not what he wanted to hear. And in an instant, Tom Riddle had his servant by the throat, enjoying the way his puny eyes dilated in fear.

"When will the wedding be?"

Trembling, he answered. "I-It is not c-certain."

Gasping for air, he continued. "But the lady did not say she wanted to. As did His Grace."

Tom Riddle let go at the disgusting sound of his servant addressing Harry reverently. He straightened in his chair and didn't even flinch as Peter did when a sudden clap of thunder reverberated in the dimly lit room.

"They are not fools to get a special license as early as today," he surmised, the thought giving him a reason to smile now. And then he stood up, "tell Mason to assemble his men."

Peter bowed, but did not immediately turn to go about his orders.

Riddle looked at him and swept his arm towards the door. "They'll know what to do."

"Very well, my lord."

After the scrawny, pathetic excuse for a messenger left the room, Tom Riddle stood up and refilled his goblet with the finest wine he had in a decanter. He had been saving it for a special occasion. And what was about to take place was proving itself to be a very special one indeed.

He leered venomously at his reflection by the window as he watched Peter walk across the yard and knock on the door to where Cairn Mason, a big burly man who had been serving him for some years, lived.

"A few more days…" he muttered, gripping the glass in his hand tightly, "this will be over."

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"For the last time, Sirius, no!" Harry angrily shouted as he got off from the chair and strode to the door.

"Harry, get back here this instant."

Sirius didn't even bother to raise his voice. Its spiteful tone was enough to get the message across the room and the minute he heard his godfather's tone, Harry knew that he was in danger of seeing Sirius' dark side. And so he let go of the knob of the unbolted door, and turned around, but couldn't go as far as making himself walk back.

"You and Hermione were found in that cottage---together---after having been missing for nearly half a day. The guests are not oblivious to what happened. They are talking about it even as we speak," said Sirius.

Harry gave a short bark of laughter. It had been four days since they had been found, but the talk, apparently, had not died down as of yet. "That is not any of their concern, Sirius. And who saw us, anyway? Only a couple of your servants did. And they didn't see anything worth mentioning. We were just eating."

"I wonder how you managed that with one arm injured and the other holding her hand?" Sirius scoffed, "oh, maybe she was feeding you."

It took Harry all kinds of control to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head. "You and I both know there are more scandalous behaviors than simply holding a lady's hand."

Sirius stopped short. "Be that as it may, you know the consequences," he took a deep breath, preparing himself for the next bout of anger from his godson, "you have to marry her."

"I've already said I won't," Harry said in a heartbeat.

"She will be ruined," Sirius reminded with a voice that he thought could make Harry feel guilty, "she will never find a husband."

Harry shook his head and strode back to the chair he had left a minute ago. He looked up and met his father's eyes. It was spooky, that, the way Sirius kept a portrait of his parents in his very own library. Shaking his head, he went on. "From what I've surmised about her, I believe I did her a favor."

"A favor? Is that what you think this is?" Sirius asked, and even had the gall to laugh. "A favor?"

Harry shifted to his other foot in discomfort. "She does not want a husband, Sirius. Do not belittle both our intelligence by saying that she does. At least now, no one would come pestering her about marriage."

"Did you even hear yourself?" Sirius asked, looking up at his godson who didn't seem to be noticing that he was still standing, "Forget about getting married. Have you not a care that she will be talked about as…as some kind of a…"

"Charlatan? Wanton?" he supplied, the corner of his mouth lifting, indicating that he was not aware of the gravity of the situation.

"Yes!" Sirius exclaimed, turning a bit red.

"She won't be, as long as we don't act as if we had done something to be guilty about," Harry put in, shrugging.

"And how will you act, dare I ask?" said Sirius.

Harry pursed his lips and placed his hands on his waist. "Civil?"

"My boy, you weren't acting civilly before this happened. No one knows that you and Hermione hate each other. You didn't even act as if you were more than just acquaintances. How will you go about accomplishing what you had in mind?"

"And you're point is?"

Sirius sighed, standing up. "My point is, if you act civilly, people would think that you had done something that destroyed your friendship. If you acted as more than just acquaintances, they would surmise that the afternoon in the cottage gave you a reason to be more comfortable with one another. And you can't stop seeing her either because people will think you are avoiding her."

Sirius smiled inwardly, his mood lightening by the second. He knew that there was no way Harry could get out of this predicament without considering Hermione's feelings, unless he really didn't care about her reputation, which was not the case at all.

This was good, very good indeed.

"But…but…" Harry stuttered, "That leaves me no choice but to marry her!"

"Well put," said Sirius, grinning, "I shall arrange for a special license, then?"

"That is the last thing I want to do."

"But that solves your problem."

"It does not," Harry slammed his hand on his godfather's desk, surprising him a bit, "You know how I feel about marriage, Sirius. Having a wife would mean I have to be responsible for her."

"There is nothing wrong with that, Harry," Sirius said in a gentler tone, approaching his godson, "if you care about somebody, it will not be so hard having that person in your life. It would even be a blessing."

"It's a different thing with marriage. And with her, of all people…" He swallowed.

"Why?"

"She hates me, for crying out loud," Harry pointed out, "She does not want anything to do with me. All we do is argue when we're in the same room. She keeps on rubbing it in my face about what happened before. I mean, if I married her, I won't even have a single day of peace."

"And the fact that you were holding her hand was just some kind of interlude from all the fighting?" Sirius reminded cheekily.

"The point here is, I will not marry somebody I have just met." Harry turned around to his godfather.

"And again, the fact that you are attracted as hell to her is not a consolation?" said Sirius, scratching his chin.

Harry opened his mouth to speak. "I am not attracted to her!"

"Sure you are," Sirius mumbled, "you wouldn't have fretted about her hating you if you didn't want her to like you as much as you like her."

"Wouldn't you be as worried when somebody whom you don't even know that well has expressed this hatred for you, without you knowing the reason?"

"I wouldn't have lost sleep over it, if that's what you mean," Sirius said, then he clapped his godson's back, "oh come on, Harry, just admit you like her and you want her for a wife. It's not so difficult. And maybe after a while, you could learn to love her."

It wouldn't be difficult; really, had it not been for him knowing that she hated his guts.

More to the point, he didn't want her to suffer by marrying him and forcing her to live with him for the rest of her life. He was not that selfish to want somebody in his life who didn't want him in hers.

Besides, he knew that even though he was attracted to her, marriage will never be for him, as it had never been.

He didn't want another life to be responsible of, knowing how it felt to lose the one he had held within his hands. It was not fair, he admitted, but the death of Polly will forever hold him against caring for anybody else.

It would be better if they were just to keep the truce they had, and not muck it up by doing something neither of them wanted.

But since Sirius would not give up unless he had a very good reason to, Harry knew only one way to stop his tirades, and that was to discourage him from thinking that marriage between him and Hermione would work.

Harry took a deep breath, prepared himself to go against his head, and looked at his godfather straight in the eye.

"I say, no."

Sirius stared for a moment, and then huffed out a breath. "Why not?"

"I do not want a wife whose treatment for me could not be any more frigid."

"What?"

"She treats me coldly. Always reminding me of how I didn't try to help her father. She doesn't understand the reason that I did, and even if I tell her, she'll be too busy telling me how I ruined her life to listen. I'd rather wait for hell to freeze over than marry a woman who doesn't seem to have anything better to say than how much she hates me."

"Are you sure you're talking about Hermione?"

"I would never confuse her with anyone else," he held up his hands, "Listen to me, Sirius, this is the last time I shall tell you this. I will never marry her. I will not be saddled with that Ice Princess. God, even just thinking about it…she's not even what I have in mind for a wife. If I can have my own choice, I would prefer someone whom I'm attracted to. And believe me, Hermione Granger is the last person I would be attracted to."

Sirius frowned as Harry finished his statement. He would have given himself a pat on the back for his superb performance, had it not been for Sirius gaping at someone behind him.

Harry didn't turn around to see who it was.

But he heard her anyway.

"Who said I wanted to marry you?"

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"Ooh!" Hermione wanted to smash something the minute she reached her chambers.

No, wait, this wasn't her home.

But she did want to break something.

Maybe his head.

God! Why did she even go there?

Why, why, why?

As if being discovered with Harry wasn't enough, she just had to let the guests see that she was going to the library, where he had been apparently. Granted that she didn't know Harry was going to be there, but still.

It wasn't as if she had been ignorant about what was going on. The little tidbits she had heard on her way over to Sirius had been enough to convince her that her reputation was already in tatters.

When Sirius' servants found her and Harry in the cottage, over four days ago, she knew that no matter how seemingly innocent their state had been, there was no escaping that she and Harry would have to marry now.

Actually, the moment they were stranded in that cottage, Hermione had been dimly aware that they would end up in that very situation. She just didn't let herself believe that it would really happen until the door of the cottage burst open, and in came two servants, looking for them.

Granted that they did not look like they saw something malicious, Hermione didn't doubt that word would spread as soon as they got back to the mansion.

She had been contemplating on what to do to get out of the inevitable consequence that she had brought upon herself, when she came up with the idea that she and Harry could wed. After which they could just have their marriage annulled. In that way, her reputation would be saved…well, at least some of it…and they could go on with their lives as if nothing happened.

But the more she thought about it, the more impossible it seemed.

For one thing, after getting annulled, society would still be looking for the next Earl of Ravenclaw, since Harry would be letting go of the title once the papers were drawn.

And another, her being a once-married woman, would give her suitors a leverage to take even more advantage of her state, not to mention that getting divorced or something similar to that would get her shunned away from society, regardless of her status as the daughter of the late Earl of Ravenclaw.

She was ready to discuss the matter with Sirius, when whom did she find all defensive and critical regarding her?

Hermione gripped the pillows hard as she recalled what he said.

She would bore him to extinction?

That bastard!

And Ice Princess, was she?

God!

What was she even thinking, allowing herself to be attracted to him?

What was so attractive about him now?

He couldn't have been ruder had he even tried.

And the fact was, she didn't even want to marry him.

She wasn't in any form of danger whatsoever, and she didn't care about her reputation that much to let herself be the cause of boredom for some man who didn't even find her attractive.

No amount of attraction would have made her agree!

"Lady Hermione!"

She turned around and stared at the door, almost picturing him outside, banging it.

`Lady Hermione now, is it?' she thought, gritting her teeth. A while ago, it was Hermione, then after being discovered and undoubtedly told to marry her, he was trying to put some distance between her by being formal?

He was really more of a bastard than she originally thought.

"Go away." She muttered, although she really didn't intend it to reach his ears. It didn't even occur to her that his standing outside her room when in any moment someone might come would greatly double the gossips roaming.

"Lady Hermione, we need to talk," he called firmly, although his voice seemed to have mellowed a bit.

Brushing away the tears that she had not known were falling down her cheeks, she stood up and opened the closet. She took hold of as many gowns as she could and laid them down on her bed. She didn't even bother to keep her actions quiet. She wanted him to know what she was doing inside.

"Hermione!"

`Hermione was back,' she thought gingerly.

She shot a glance towards the door and closed her eyes reverently, the tears just won't stop coming!

But she was not going to take anymore of this.

She should have left altogether the moment she found out he was also staying here. Perhaps then, she wouldn't be carrying around the guilt that she had left her defenses down and allowed him to crack the wall that she had erected between them.

Maybe then, she wouldn't have gone away with this empty feeling that she would be leaving something behind.

But, it was better than never.

So he didn't want to get married.

Big deal! She thought bitterly as she began to shove her belongings inside her case. She couldn't agree more anyway.

Besides, what would be the point of saving her reputation by marrying him, when after getting married, gossips of her being a kept wife or being an estranged couple would only arise.

Getting married with somebody who didn't want to would be a little pathetic, wouldn't it?

"What are you doing?" his voice was bit muffled, most probably by him listening though the door at the same time, "Are you packing?"

`Mr. Clever, aren't you?' Hermione thought again.

"My lady, don't do anything foolish," he said.

It wasn't his warning that got to her; it was what he had addressed her with.

She could have taken any more of his insults, but not the reminder that he could be a gentleman, if he were to put his mind on it. It was just rubbing it in her face that he had the ability to make her believe how much he liked her and then abhor her after.

"The only thing I had done foolishly was seeing to your wounds in that cottage!" she shouted, sitting down on the bed, heaving with the effort of talking and crying at the same time.

"Really?" Harry's voice came from behind the door, "I would have thought it had been the moment you irrationally followed me in the forest."

Ooh!

This man didn't know when to stop.

"Go away." she muttered again, although this time, it did reach Harry's ears.

"No, I won't. We need to talk," he said in a serious voice.

"I refuse to talk to you," said Hermione.

"This is not a matter of you consenting to talk to me or not." Harry said impatiently. "And if you have a care for your name, I would suggest that you open this door and let me in."

Hermione shook her head in disbelief.

Was he foxed?

She strode over to the door and opened it, but did not step aside for him to enter. "I don't know what has gotten into your head, your grace, but I don't think that you entering my chambers would save my name, which by the way, is already ruined. So, I do not have a care on whether or not anybody sees you outside my chambers, as long as you stay out of it. Now, good night."

She pushed the door closed and then started to pace. She was halfway across the room when the doors burst open. She turned around at the exact moment Harry entered, and closed them, bolting their locks.

She backed away until she reached the corner of her four-poster bed.

When he looked in her direction, the first thing he noticed was the suitcase on her bed, nearly filled with her clothes. He took in the sight of her closet next, and saw that it was almost empty.

Hermione began to arrange her clothes one by one, as if no one was in the room but her.

"What is all this?" he asked when he noticed what she was doing.

"Not that it is any of your concern, but I have decided to leave, your grace," she explained without looking up at him.

"You are not setting foot out of this mansion," he said.

"I do not see how you could tell me what to do, you and I don't have any relation," she was carrying on as if nothing was wrong, and if only for that, she was proud of herself.

She stood up and went to her closet to remove the remainder of her belongings, but he was cruel enough to block her way just as she turned around.

"Your leaving would not repair the damage that was done."

"Would you please get out of my chambers?" she asked instead.

"No."

"If somebody found you here, your grace, I'm afraid we will have to get married," she tried to keep her voice steady, but the anger and hurt in them stabbed him, "we don't want that, do we?"

"Hermione," he reached out to her, but her next words stilled him.

"Especially you."

The pain that he could see in her eyes had him cradling her cheeks in his hands. "I'm sorry," he said hoarsely.

She turned her face away, knowing that in about a second she would be crying. But he didn't leave her alone. Even as she hugged her clothes to her to put some distance between the two of them, his arms went around her and they tightened like steel bands, imprisoning her in his embrace.

She bit her lip to stop the evidence of her weakness from showing, but they were already falling from her eyes and wetting her sleeves.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she heard him say, "Please don't cry,"

Hermione froze. "I'm not crying."

"Yes," Harry loosened his hold, but kept an arm around her as he gently lifted her face towards him, "you are."

She shrugged out of his embrace and walked over to the bed. "No, I am not."

She needed to distance herself from him. After hearing what he had to say about her, she no longer trusted herself to hear his words. They made her think. And what she had thought about was not something she needed right now.

"What are you doing here, your grace?"

Harry respected her need for privacy and didn't question the reason that she was crying. Besides, he fairly had an idea why.

"I wanted to apologize for what you heard," he said stepping towards her, but when she flinched at the sound of his footsteps, he contented himself on staying where he was, "and explain the reason that I said that."

She straightened to face him. "I accept your apology, your grace. I know you did not want me to hear that. It was my fault that I stayed. The conversation had obviously been a private one. It was just that, I thought no one had been inside, since the door was slightly opened. I entered without knocking. If truth be told, it is I who should feel sorry. Did I mention that it was my fault?"

She was rambling now, she knew, but that was the only way she could keep herself from lashing out the anger that she was feeling, and not to mention the hurt?


Has she mentioned that she was hurt?

Yes, well, she was…

"You are gracious, madam, to take blame. But I still need to explain," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Hermione turned away from him and walked across the room to retrieve her vanities. She didn't know why she wanted him to grovel. She didn't even want to marry him.

Right?

"Do not bother, your grace, I'm certain you had a very good reason."

"I do," he reiterated, desperate beyond belief to make her see how he never meant to hurt her, "Sirius wants us to get married."

"And so do the rest of his family, and the guests, too, I imagine," she laughed bitterly, "but no matter, no wedding would take place for sure. Who would want to be married to me, right? I mean, after what I heard, I wouldn't want to live with myself."

"Hermione," he croaked, "please, just let me explain. The reason that I said that was because I didn't want to marry you."

Her eyes narrowed even as the words he said sipped into his own ears and he grimaced at the sound of it. "No…that's not…"

"Well that is expected, isn't it?" she interrupted calmly, too calmly for her taste, "I understand that I'm too frigid to be acceptable. And that I can't quite hold the other end of a conversation either for your interest. I can't imagine how you would want to marry someone like me."

She wasn't the type to whine about anything, but his statement and its suddenness caught her off guard.

"Maybe that's why I haven't found the right man to wed. I'm still waiting for somebody who can stand my personality," continued Hermione.

"I understand that you're mad about what I said," he retorted, crossing his arms, "But how about me? You've expressed your hatred every time you see me, but I don't act this way!"

"No," she shook her head and then gave him a pointed look, "you just go against my back and tell anybody who would listen how much I hate you."

"That's not what I…God!" he exclaimed impatiently, throwing his hands in the air, "will you just hear me out?"

"The point is, Harry," she said, surprising them both by saying his name, "I've heard enough."

"Hermione…"

"Please," she held up her hand to silence him, "I know I've been vocal about my feelings, but I'm sorry that I hate you. I don't even know why I'm angry even when what you said was true. But don't worry, your grace, after tonight, you will never have to deal with me or my hatred again."

"What do you mean," he asked, grabbing hold of her arms, searching her eyes, "you're sorry you hate me?"

"Don't go there," she refused to meet his eyes, she put her hands on his chest and pushed him away as gently as she could, "please, just let me go. I need to go back to Ravenclaw Keep"

"And then what?" he asked, shaking her, "what do you plan on doing next?"

"Try to find somebody who will take the place of my father," she muttered matter-of-factly, as if the answer had been obvious right from the start, "It's been so long since the estate had an earl, I daresay, it's about time I faced the responsibility of giving them one."

"And how long have you had this crazy thought in your head?"

"It's not the question of how long I've though about it, but of how much longer I can keep pretending," she replied, looking into his eyes and smiling.

It was the saddest thing he had ever seen, and Harry felt something pull at his gut, a feeling that he recognized as nerves.

"I've been avoiding marriage since I've come of age, hoping that I would find someone who's not in it for the estate. But now… now that I no longer have the reputation that I need for a suitable one, I'm afraid I have to go back to answer calls before news of what happened reaches Ravenclaw Keep. Maybe I'll finally find one who would…"

"No." He interrupted her, gritting his teeth.

Hermione stared at him as if he'd just grown two more heads. "No?"

"No."

"No?"

"Damn it to hell, you're not going to marry any one of them!"

Her eyes clouded with confusion, "Why not?!"

"Because you're going to marry me."

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A/N:

So this one, I'm completely all right with. Although the ending quite didn't add up to what I wanted, I thought it had been just about right. I dare say, updates are pouring. If it weren't for the revisions, I would probably be writing chapter 15 now.

Anyway, I hope you review. Really. It would mean a lot to me. I kind of erased the chapter 13, and with it came 19 reviews. That had been heartbreak for me. I didn't even know what I was doing. I sort of erased it absentmindedly. Please be dears, and make up for the ones that I stupidly removed…

Thank you, and happy reading. I hope you liked this one.

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