Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Harry Potter but I do own this little plot.
Author's note: Thanks to all the wonderful reviews you guys have given me. I really appreciate all of them.
I will marry you.
It was as if those four words had opened a Pandora's Box as soon as they'd left her mouth.
She'd went home, feeling strangely unsettled, still seeing that all too vivid picture of Harry in her mind once again. She had the feeling that something was going to happen, one of anticipation, but it felt almost odd how she could feel as though she were looking forward to what was going to happen, and almost afraid of what was going to happen. The intensity of her confusion and fear were almost overwhelming, choking her blindly.
But there was no turning back.
Ron was delighted when she'd told him, glad that Hermione had finally found someone to settle down with, just like he'd had. Only Luna simply gave Hermione an understanding smile, a mysterious, knowing smile and a hug that made Hermione want to spill out the whole miserable affair to her. But she didn't, believing that this was her own mess she had created and that no one should have to share it with her.
But clearly, she was destined for worse things.
**********
It all started the day when they'd gone to the bridal shop.
Hermione sank down into a velvet-covered chair silently and shut her eyes for a few second. She was exhausted, having to juggle both her studies and the preparations for her marriage. And it didn't help that he was always haunting her dreams recently, leaving her with many sleepless nights. She'd been in the bridal shop for about 2 hours and still counting and the trying on of all those dresses which had been either too lacey or too low-cut for her taste was wearing her out. If she caught sight of another frilly monstrosity, she firmly believed she was going to go mad.
Sighing, she rubbed her temples gently, trying to get rid of the beginnings of what would become a headache soon. She loved all this preparations, she really did, but it was almost too much to bear the twinge of guilt she felt whenever she thought of Harry who was occupying her every thought. Like she always did, she tried to push it away by thinking of Damien, but it never did work.
Giving a final sigh, she stood up to see Damien emerge from behind the curtain of the dressing room, dressed in a very dashing tuxedo and a grey silk tie. Forcing another smile on her face, she walked over to him to adjust his tie which was slightly askew.
"You look great." She smiled up into his eyes, pulling on the lapels of his jacket.
"Thanks." Damien adjusted the sleeves of his jacket before looking back at her. His smile immediately faded into one of concern when he saw how unbelievably weary she looked.
"What's wrong?" He asked, leading her over to the chair. "Tell me."
"It's nothing." Hermione used her free hand to push back her wispy fringe that had escaped from her hair which had been in a messy bun, letting out a breath of frustration. "I'm just really tired, especially with all this and my essays. Not to mention, I haven't found anything that remotely looks like me in this shop."
"Well," Damien gave her a small nudge. "How about that one?"
Hermione turned to see the assistant holding up a dress that was neither low-cut nor lacey. The V-shaped neckline of the dress dipped slightly but was still able to pull off the modest effect. It was made of white satin and it ended in a puddle of flowing pleats that looked extremely elegant. It looked pretty although simple.
Hermione found herself reaching out for the dress and taking it from the assistant, walked back into the dressing room where she quickly changed out of her clothes and into the dress. The material felt cool and smooth as she slid it over her head and zipped it up carefully. She bit her lip and looked at her reflection in the large gilt mirror hesitantly.
She looked….good.
Hermione had never thought of herself as pretty in all her life. Granted, she was rather plain, with no features that made her stand out from the crowd of girls. But in this dress, she looked almost pretty, if she did say so herself. She could feel the first small smile in days, playing on her lips, looking at her reflection in the mirror more carefully.
The chestnut tendrils that had escaped from the messy bun she'd thrown her hair into this morning, hung delicately by her nape. Her pale complexion contrasted with the ivory of the gown and the short flowing sleeves of the gown which seemed to be made of some light material hovered around her forearms. The bodice of the gown fit her perfectly and showed off her slim curves in a flattering fashion.
She looked away from her reflection, smiling almost self-consciously and in satisfaction down at her dress as she used her hand to smooth out some of the creases of her dress and adjusted the waistline of the dress so it hung on her hips. Her smile growing wider, she looked up once more at the mirror, her smile becoming shocked….
Harry.
She could see him behind her in the mirror.
But there was no way he could be behind her right now.
Her first instinct was to turn around and see if he was really there. But it felt as though her limbs were frozen and no matter how she silently screamed at her body to turn around, she was paralyzed to the spot. He looked at her in the mirror, his green eyes crinkling up into the smile she'd always known, but this one with an almost tender expression.
She looked at him in the mirror, shocked beyond all reason. Her brown eyes met his green ones, stunned meeting affectionate. Almost as if she was in a dream, she lifted her arm to touch his reflection, caress his face. You can't be here. Why are you here? She didn't speak but her face, eyes widened and smile fading, spoke her thoughts.
She could see him clearly whisper, "You look beautiful." She could almost feel his breath, hot on her bare nape, and it made her shiver at his being so close and the heat from his body passing through the thin fabric of her gown.
It was almost as if those were the magic words that released her from her state of paralysis.
She spun around to touch him, to see if he was real…
And he was gone, leaving her to touch the velvet silkiness of the curtain of the dressing room. Flinging the curtain open, she stepped out, looking around the bridal shop frantically, only to see Damien getting up from the chair he had been sitting in minutes ago and starting towards her with a smile.
"You look gorgeous in that dress." He took both her hands in his, smiling tenderly down at her, only to notice her frantic and haunted expression. "What's wrong?"
"I…I…" Hermione was still scanning the shop. Except for the assistant, there was no one else. There was no sign that Harry had been here. "I just thought I saw…."
"Saw who?" Damien tried, frowning slightly, the smile dropping off his face.
"Never mind." Hermione extracted her hands from him and tried to force a smile which belied how shaky she was feeling inside and changed tack. "I like this dress." She felt shaky and weak inside, almost as if someone had punched her in the gut.
"I like it too." Damien's smile returned, albeit hesitantly. Seeing to not want to make any more out of her weird behavior, he turned to the assistant and told her they would take this tuxedo and this wedding gown.
Meanwhile, Hermione was left with her thoughts that left shadows of doubt creeping into her mind. Was he really here?
*********************
"The seating arrangement is nearly finished." Damien told Hermione as they walked down the busy streets of London, his fingers entwined in hers. "You weren't there, so I decided to let my parents and friends take the left side of the hall. Is that okay?"
"Mmm." Hermione wasn't actually listening to what he was saying, but rather thinking about what had just happened. Had she been imagining Harry just now? Was he just a figment of her imagination? But he had seemed so real, it felt almost as though he had been….
Just then, she felt an almost odd nudge, that something in her had ordered her to look across the street and she obeyed without hesitation, not knowing what was ahead.
Harry.
She shut her eyes instinctively, pausing in the middle of the throngs of people walking down the street who were now knocking into her, praying, silently hoping that she was not going mad, that she hadn't just seen him across the road. She barely heard Damien's voice; it seemed like one of those Muggle radios that had been badly tuned, fading in and out. No. No. It couldn't be.
And yet it was.
She opened her eyes to see him standing across the street. Horror and fear began to seep through her entire being and once again, she felt paralyzed, standing stock-still in the masses of people who bumped into her as she they passed. But she never took her eyes off him, just as how he was watching her intently, seriously.
And finally, he smiled. A smile that warmed her heart, a smile that made her feel as though everything was normal and that he had never gone missing, that he'd been here all along. His green eyes locked with hers, his smile grew even wider and Hermione felt her lips curving in a small smile.
Without actually being conscious of what she was doing, she moved away from Damien and towards Harry, not looking at the roads at she did so. He was still watching her all this while and she kept her eyes trained on him. She stepped off the pavement and made to cross the busy road.
But someone had taken hold of her arm and was yanking her back onto the sidewalk.
'What the hell do you think you're doing?" Damien shouted, drawing the stares of the passer-bys, anger barely concealed in his shaking voice. "You could have been killed!" Hermione looked away from him immediately and once again across the road, her heart sinking at the sight.
He was gone.
"No." She heard herself whisper softly, tears burning in her eyes. Once again, she felt the familiar sense of loss as she realized that he hadn't been real all this while, and the feeling of inane misery and shock. "No."
"What is going on with you these days?" Damien's voice had lost its edge of anger and was now border lining on frustration. "You've been acting so weird lately; it feels like you're no longer the Hermione I used to know. Sometimes," He went on wearily, "I feel like I barely know you anymore."
She could no longer hide the tears. "I'm sorry." She choked. "I…I don't know what's wrong with me either. I…I…" She could no longer speak, but let the old grief overcome her as the first sob escaped her lungs, tears streaming down her cheeks uncontrollably.
******************
Hermione sighed as she turned over in her bed, the once crisp and straight sheets curling themselves around her legs, the bedspread now crumpled. Finally, with a sigh of frustration, she kicked off the sheets and swung her legs over the side of the bed, sitting up as she did so.
After her breakdown today, Damien had brought her home, no longer pressing the issue of her weird behavior. Although he had wanted to stay and keep her company, she had refused, saying that she wanted to be alone and that she would owl him if she needed anything. Now as she stared at her hands, illuminated white by the glow of the streetlamps coming in from her window in the deepening evening light, she felt numbed by the events of the day, too tired to feel miserable or upset about anything anymore.
She had attempted to get more sleep but this time, her thoughts about Harry were more relentless, refusing to leave her and leaving her in a state of sleeplessness. Pushing them away would be futile, Hermione knew, since she had been trying to for the past few weeks without success. She would probably lie awake in her hot bed, staring at the ceiling until the wee hours of morning where she would fall into an uneasy sleep.
She stood and slid her feet into the sneakers that had been by the side of her bed and headed out of her apartment. Hermione stepped out into the cool night air, wishing silently that she had thought to bring a jacket but deciding against it, crossed the road to the park opposite the brownstone building where she lived.
She had been there a few times before, just on her own and sometimes with Damien. It was a simple park, with a playground for the little kids and the requisite greenery that all parks had. In the middle of the park there was a small lake and around it a footpath. At this time, it was usually crowded with joggers and couples taking a walk but for some reason today it was rather empty.
Not that Hermione minded of course. She needed the silence to think this through once and for all.
She thought back to how she had seen Harry today, in the mirror and across the street. She recalled how immensely happy and shocked she had felt, just seeing him, as if he was real and then feeling her heart constrict when she realized that he wasn't real. Hermione wondered if she had been hallucinating, if Harry had just been a figment of her imagination. But yet, she had been so certain that he was real, that he had actually been there to see her. Am I going mad? The thought was so horrific yet absurd if that was really what was happening.
Suddenly, she felt that odd, yet somehow familiar twinge that commanded her to turn around. Oh no. Not again, she pleaded silently, recognizing it; Please let me be imagining things. Please don't let it be him. Half-afraid of what she would see, she turned, slowly.
And there on the footpath, before her stood the object of her thoughts and worries. He was standing right in the harsh glare of the streetlamp; the shadows under his hooded emerald eyes all too evident and the brittleness of his expression making him look so vulnerable, something she hadn't seen in him for such a long time.
Hermione didn't know what to say, couldn't find the words to make a coherent sentence, but felt a sudden sense of despair wash over her, too tired to try and figure out if all this was just make-believe or real.
"Please," She found herself pleading in a low, tired voice. "Why are you doing this to me?" She rubbed a hand over her burning eyes. "I can't take much more of this." Her voice was unsteady and nearly cracked as she felt the tears prick at her eyes once more.
"It's not what I'm doing to you, Mione." The familiar nickname made her head jerk up to meet his steady gaze. A flicker of sorrow passed over his features so quickly she wondered if she had imagined it. "It's what you're doing to me."
The words were so softly spoken, but yet held such meaning that her eyes widened in shock and she sharply sucked in a breath of air. Could it be that…?
And before she knew it, he had vanished once more into thin air and she looked around to see no one again.
And Hermione was once again left with the thoughts that she knew would haunt her for a long time.
Hi guys. Hope you liked this chapter. I have some really bad news but please don't kill me after you hear this. I'm putting this story on pause right now so I wont be updating for some time, because my exams are coming up and I have to make sure I do really well so that I can make it to college so I need to focus solely on my studies right now. I promise to update IMMEDIATELY after my exams are over. I'm so sorry. Please review!