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Mr. & Mrs. Evans by i found nemo
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Mr. & Mrs. Evans

i found nemo

Disclaimer: Don't own HP or M&MS

Mr. & Mrs. Evans

Chapter 27: The Showdown Part III

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[AN] I'm sorry before hand.

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The sun had now vanished underneath the horizon. Harry guessed this gave people more of an incentive to come to the park, because he found it difficult as hell to run through the hordes of people walking down the paths and over the lawns. Even though he impatiently pushed his way through most of the passer-by's, it still took about ten minutes to get to the secluded spot where he had initially apparated to. When he finally did, Harry was in too much of an angry frenzy to even bother to stop and think about what he was about to apparate in to. With his teeth still gritted together from his favourite blazer being destroyed, Harry disapparated to the shed in his back yard.

… …

Hermione glared after the once strong bolt of yellow that had just fizzled off into a smoke like wisp. So much for all the focus concentrated on her anti-apparition wards. Someone had just apparated onto the premises she was trying to cover.

Narrowing her eyes, she had no trouble guessing who the intruder could be. She let out a ladylike growl before immediately abandoning her defensive attempts, and stalking over to the bed that she used to share with Harry. The semi-automatic assault rifle she had found in her old office was laying on top of the bed, sided with two additional rounds of ammunition. Because of stupid fucking Harry Potter, she had no wand to use. She would have to solely rely on what bit of wandless magic she could perform, and then the two other guns and a few large kitchen knives she had found lying around the house.

But Hermione wasn't scared in the least. Rather she felt eager to show Harry that she could kick his bloody ass, even without magic. She grinned in anticipation as she watched a shadow hurry across the backyard and up onto the porch.

… …

Crouching down slightly, Harry ran from the back of the shed, across the lawn, and onto the back porch of his house. His wand was gripped tightly in his hand, prepared for anything that Hermione might've had planned.

He reached his hand out for the doorknob, his eyes already scanning through the living room and beyond.

As soon as his fingertips grazed the brass knob, he felt an electrocuting jolt. With a gasp he ripped his hand away.

"Oh…" he muttered, staring angrily at his raw red hand. Oh she had

Harry let out a snarl through his clenched teeth as he quickly took off towards the side of the porch and hoped over the railing, falling into the bushes. Swatting in an irritated manner at some of the leaves and twigs the poked into his legs and waist, he hurriedly made his way over to the window that used to be Hermione's office.

He elbowed the glass hard, effectively shattering it, and then ducked down in case he had triggered any more of Hermione's juvenile tricks.

After a few seconds, he figured he was clear, and he reached in to unlatch the window. He gasped at the pain in his hand as he lifted himself up and through the open window, but as soon as he was completely inside the darkened house he got quiet. His eyes roamed the room (thankfully the twins had taken that Quentin fellow out of there earlier that day) and immediately noticed his rifle missing from the corner, by the lamp.

His eyes narrowed, "Damn her…"

He reached over and opened the bottom drawer of the desk. Again he let out a frustrated sound, noticing his two other hand guns were gone.

Moving on, he slid cautiously by the wall until he reached the doorway. First, he pointed his wand around the corner, before he covertly peeked out as well. The second story of the house was completely dark. From where he was positioned, Harry could only make out his bedroom door, opened the slightest bit.

With his wand raised, he stepped out, about to start walking up the stairs.

Before Harry could even put his foot down, there was a familiar clicking sound. 'Oh shit', didn't even make it across his mind before Harry's semi-automatic rifle emitted a loud boom. The bullet hit right where Harry's foot would have stepped.

Harry dove back in time to miss the second and third bullet Hermione shot at him. The glass panelling to Hermione's old office doors shattered, and Harry covered his head with both arms to keep from being sliced to pieces. The ringing echo caused by the gun shots still rung loudly in his ears.

Hermione waited at her hiding spot, perched behind the split in their bedroom door. She waited until the sonic echo cleared off and the house became quiet again until she poked her head out, trying to get a decent look down by her old office.

"Whoops," she called out, noticing the broken glass, "You still alive baby?"

Harry made a few exaggerated grunting sounds, before dropping his wand an inch from the ground.

The sound of clattering wood, was enough for Hermione to knit her eyebrows together. After the past few days, she literally couldn't believe that he would be done in so easily. She started to get up from her squatted position, the heavy gun still in her hands. With her foot, she pried the door open a little more.

… … …

Downstairs Harry had already picked his wand back up, and cast a nonverbal 'silencio' over the glass strewn around him. He sat up in a crouching position, his eyes trained on the kitchen only a few strides away from him.

He rolled his eyes at Hermione's mocking call, but then was instantly alerted of her movements when the door creaked upstairs.

He gripped his wand more tightly in his hand, and ran over a series of curses and jinxes in his head.

… … …

Hermione, too, had a white knuckle grip on her weapon. She was just putting her finger over the trigger, about to step completely out of the room, when an annoying head of messy black hair flashed in the hall below her.

"REDUCTO!" Harry's voice shouted.

Hermione rolled down the first landing of stairs as the ominous blue bolt crushed through half of their bedroom wall. She started firing shots in Harry's direction as soon as she had the rifle propped back up on her knee.

Harry cast a ricochet-shield over himself as he began running down the hallway, away from Hermione's line of fire. Three of the bullets boomeranged off the invisible cover and sped back towards Hermione. She rolled down the second set of steps to avoid them as they pierced through the wooden stairs and railing.

Hermione quickly scurried over to one of the pillars that bordered the living room, and threw herself behind it so she could reload. She popped the empty clip out and refilled it with a full one before taking a deep breath.

Unbeknownst to her, Harry was hiding behind the couch on the opposite side of the room, waiting for her to come out.

Both spell-fire and gun shots rang out together as Harry jumped up from behind the couch, and Hermione dashed towards the adjacent hallway.

Once she had disappeared, Harry cantered back towards the kitchen. Just as he was going into a crouch behind the island, he felt his shoulder knock into something. He cursed himself, knowing that the consequences of whatever he had bumped into would not be good.

Sure enough, something made of glass crashed to the floor. Harry braced his hands over his ears, preparing for the mind numbing booming to start. Surprisingly, Harry waited like that for more than a few seconds, and no such sound ever happened.

He pulled back his hands and looked around cautiously. Nothing peculiar was in his line of sight, so he scooted over to get a look around the kitchen's island. Again, nothing out of the ordinary met his eyes.

Where the hell is she? he wondered to himself, as he cautiously stood up from his crouch, still in a defensive pose.

Hermione smirked, watching Harry's stiff back rise into a standing position.

"Gotcha," she muttered, before cocking the gun. Harry spun around just in time before Hermione started firing. Doing the first thing that came to mind, he ducked while grabbing the refrigerator handle and swinging its door out to cover him. Just as the titanium door covered the last of his body, her first bullet struck through a jar of mustard.

Hermione kept firing until she heard Harry shout. For a brief second, she thought he had been hit, before a bolt of green came shooting from around the side of the fridge door. She dove out of the way, but the spell grazed over the side of her thigh before she was completely down.

A searing pain ripped through her leg. Glancing down, Hermione saw blood already pouring from the wound. Clenching down hard on her teeth, she drug herself out of the kitchen doorway before Harry could notice she'd been hit.

Harry held his breath, noticing that the shooting had stopped. He heard movement, but it sounded like it was moving away. His heart almost leaped up into his chest. He glanced around for a second, his mind going wild. His eyes settled on the stove and he grinned. There was definitely one quick way to find out if she really was down or not, and all it required was a few choice words and a quiet severing charm to the gas pipe, connected to the stove.

… … …

Now in the hallway slumped against the wall, Hermione took in a deep, hissing breath. Her hand was pressed over her blood drenched thigh. Even though she wanted to, she knew she couldn't waste any of her energy on healing it wandlessly. Harry, the rotten prat, was proving to be more difficult and annoying to take out than she'd originally thought. Right now, she'd just have to live through the pain.

As she was picking herself up, she heard a coy, taunting voice call out to her, "Don't tell me you're all worn out, babe. I've barely broken a sweat."

If looks could kill, Hermione's eyes would have been like the plague. She shifted the rifle over to her left arm while her other hand reached towards her waist. Stealthily, she pulled out the large kitchen knife she had stowed there, and waited with her eyes trained on the entrance to the kitchen.

Still inside the kitchen, Harry cast a quick protective charm over himself before he decided to peek out into the hall. Silence completely engulfed the kitchen as Harry slowly inched his head out of the doorway.

He suddenly jerked himself backwards as a flying object was sent straight at his forehead. With a twang, the knife wedged its way deep into the wall.

Harry lost his footing, tripping over a beer bottle that had somehow fallen from the refrigerator unharmed. He careened backwards, both hands flailing out open palmed. Harry's heart skipped a beat as his wand scattered off into the kitchen. Before he could move to grab it, he glanced up at some sudden movement.

… … …

Hermione spun into the kitchen again, her rifle perfectly in position. Instinctively, she open fired. One bullet, and the friction it caused was all it took for the gas to ignite into flames.

She dove into the hallway again, feeling the heat from the flames all over her back. She started to lift herself up with one hand, the other still holding the gun, while looking back into the flame-retreating doorway. Before the fire became too subtle, a body jumped out of it.

Harry pulled Hermione up by her shirt and slammed her back into the wall. Hermione let out a groan as her head knocked against the hard surface. She barely noticed Harry rip the gun from her hands and throw it down the hall.

He grabbed her by the neck and crushed her back into the wall again, this time dragging her down it, towards the living room. The pictures on the wall all shattered and fell as Harry slammed Hermione's body repeatedly into them. Once the hallway ended, Harry threw her down on the floor.

He was about to stomp down on her chest when she rolled to the right. Harry's foot collided with the hard floor right before Hermione got up on her knees and swung her elbow into his stomach.

Harry doubled over with a groan as Hermione reached into her boot and extracted the second knife she had stored there. With a grunt, she jabbed it towards Harry.

He noticed just in time and dodged it. Harry grabbed her wrist as it flew past him and pulled her hard into the opposite wall where a side table stood. It broke to pieces as she crushed into it, the knife still clutched in her hand. Harry came up from behind and grabbed her, forcing her harder against the wall.

He wrapped one arm around her arm and waist, while the other gripped the same wrist still holding the knife. Hermione struggled and squirmed against him as Harry slammed her hand into the wall, trying to break her grip on the knife. After three blows, it worked, and Hermione dropped the weapon with a scream.

Now that her hand was free, Harry fought against her to encircle his other arm around her waist, effectively pinning both her arms. Because of her constant wiggling, Harry had to push her back up against the wall, his own cheek pressed flat against her hair.

Hermione snarled in frustration, still squirming like hell. Finally, she felt she had enough room to lift up one of her feet. She did so with her good leg, and stomped as hard as she could on Harry's foot.

Harry let out a howl of pain, instantly releasing her and hobbling back on one foot. Breathing hard, Hermione sauntered further into the living room and grabbed an antique vase, sitting on top of the fireplace mantle. With a swift turn, she smashed it over Harry's head.

The blow wasn't enough for Harry to fall over, which only incensed her more. Before she could swing on him, he grabbed her wrist again and threw her down beneath him. She landed hard on the coffee table, and immediately afterwards her mouth flew open in pain and her back arched.

Harry stumbled over her and reached out to grab her shirt again. He was just about to lift her off the table and throw her over the couch when she thrusted her knee forward.

Harry groaned, but retained his tight grip on her as they both fell over, onto the couch. Most of their weight was centered on the top part of the sofa, and a second later it toppled over due to the force. They wrestled and grovelled on the ground for a few moments. Hermione managed to elbow Harry in the back of the head a few times while Harry got a good grip on one of the broken legs to the hall stand. With a sharp flick of his wrist, he clocked Hermione right in the side of the head with it.

Hermione scooted backwards towards the wall, blood now streaming from her forehead. Panting, Harry got to his feet and followed her.

With one hand gripping her shoulder, and another held firmly to her neck, Harry drug Hermione up the wall to a standing position. As soon as he let go of her neck to curl his hand into a fist, she slid back down the wall. Harry yelled in pain as his fist punched a hole in the wall.

Below him, Hermione was getting to her feet, her eyes focused on the knife that was mixed in with the crumbled stand.

Just as she was reaching her hand out for it, Harry grabbed her by the waist. Together, they stumbled backwards and tripped over the upturned couch.

Hermione didn't even notice Harry fall next to her. She was in the middle of taking a few deep, much needed, breaths when she heard a grunt and felt an elbow slam into her ribs. Hermione yelped in pain and felt all the air rush from her lungs.

"Bitch…" Harry muttered, before focusing on himself and his own pain.

Glancing over with a renewed glare, Hermione seen Harry starting to stumble sideways in an attempt to get up. Trying to take a deep breath and ignoring the new throbbing pain, she swung out her fist and hit Harry hard in the side of the head.

Harry groaned loudly and fell over, one hand clutching at his right ear. Hermione wasted no time, struggling up enough so that she could swing one leg over Harry's chest, her knees now pinning down his shoulders. One of her hands wrapped itself around Harry's throat while the other curled into a fist.

"Don't call me that," she muttered while slamming her fist into his cheek.

"Bitch-" he choked out, his face turning redder and redder.

Hermione snarled, digging her fingernails into his neck and starting to slap and hit every inch of face in a furious vigour.

"Give me your stupid glasses," she muttered, after they cut the top of her knuckle. Harry's vision was instantly blurred as Hermione yanked the wire frames from his face and threw it off into the destroyed room.

"Ha ha!" Hermione voiced obnoxiously, now placing both hands around his neck.

Harry was able to wiggle his arm free enough so that he could punch her again on her already bruised ribs.

"Ah!" Hermione retracted one hand from Harry's neck and hunched over to her right. Harry took advantage of her momentary lapse, and instantly ripped her hand off his throat, before pushing her, by the face, off him.

Hermione fell backwards, but then hurried to get up. Harry beat her to it, and in one swift move, kicked her again in the ribs.

Still glaring at her, he flung his open palm out and silently summoned his glasses to him. They flew out of one of the potted plants and zoomed straight at him. Harry shot Hermione, still writhing on the floor in pain, a smug look.

"Ha ha," he mocked, holding out his palm again, this time for his wand. As he waited, he put the frames back on his nose.

His arrogant smile instantly fell as he peered through the shattered lens.

"Damn it!" he yelled, tearing the ruined glasses from his face. He was just contemplating over whether he should kick Hermione again and then fix his glasses, or the other way around, when he saw something move.

Harry's mouth made the shape of an 'o' and he took a step back. The moving object had found its target. His hands dropped his glasses, and immediately went to cup his crotch as he emitted a whispered howl of pain. A second later, his wand finally flew into the room and ticked off his forehead.

With a sardonic grin, Hermione grabbed his wand and tossed it away from him. She started moving back in the direction of the knife when she felt a hand clasp onto the hem of her shirt. She hear a rip and her blood boiled.

She turned in Harry's grip and grabbed both his cheeks. For a brief instant, Harry thought she might try to kiss him as a distraction, but a second later Hermione's forehead smacked against his.

His knees nearly gave way, but he was able to recover quickly. He hauled Hermione off her feet, trying to position her over his shoulder. Hermione wouldn't have it though, and she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, her arms also winding themselves around his neck.

Harry spun around, sputtering and choking for air as Hermione concentrated on clenching him tighter. She yelped as Harry rammed her back into a glass cabinet. It was enough of a surprise for Harry to punch Hermione in the weak side once more.

Again, Hermione screamed out. Just as Harry was panting, trying to catch his breath, Hermione kicked her foot out of no where and hit Harry square in the chest. He flew back, falling into one of Hermione's old potted tree plants.

As Harry struggled to untangle himself from the plant and get up, Hermione slid off the sharp surface and stiffly landed on her feet. With one hand wrapped securely around her ribs, and the other held out for balance, Hermione slowly made her way towards Harry, trying to think of her next move.

Harry coughed and groaned a few times as he got to his feet. When he finally did he held his fists out in front of him and shook his head a few times. Hermione finally got a good look at the blood leaking from a cut above his eye and the fat lip she had proudly given him.

They stared at each other with dangerous, exhausted looks for what seemed like forever. Finally, Harry broke it, when his eyes mistakenly gave something away.

Hermione followed his glance and noticed the rifle, collided against a pillar only a few feet away from Harry.

Hermione and Harry glared back at each other, daring the other to make the first move. Both of their heavy breathing seemed to slow as the seconds ticked past. Their eyes gave absolutely nothing away.

Hermione knew she wouldn't be able to get to the gun first. She had to come up with a different strategy. The corner of her eyes crinkled, showing her hidden smile.

Suddenly, Hermione flung her arm out to the side. Harry bolted for the gun, just as Hermione backtracked to the fireplace. Harry reached out for the strap of the rifle right as Hermione pushed a fake log out of the way, and grabbed the hand gun hidden below.

Simultaneously, their guns cocked into readiness and turned on each other. Hermione stared down the barrel of the rifle she had used, while Harry glared at his hand gun in her offensive grip.

Their breathing practically halted as they continued to stare at one another. Who would it be to make the first move? Who would shoot first?

Harry was the first to show some signs of change. His nostrils stopped flaring and relaxed, a sure sign that his jaw had released its death clench. Next, his stiff posture seemed to falter slightly.

Hermione didn't know what to take this as, so she held on to her gun more tightly. She was too tense; she needed oxygen. Hermione's mouth fell open and she took in a big gulp of air, ignoring the stinging and throbbing coming from her right side.

Harry's eyes darted down to her right side and then up again, a new shade taking over his orbs. Had she mistakenly winced or something?

She noticed his jaw clench again before his eyes flittered close. Hermione narrowed her eyes in confusion. What the hell is he doing?

When Harry opened his eyes again, he looked up to her. Not glared, but looked. He shook his head.

"I can't."

"Don't! Come on!" Hermione shouted through gritted teeth. She focused on keeping her hands from shaking.

Harry lowered the gun to his side and shrugged. He continued to stare at her with the same look.

"Stop fucking with my head, Potter!" Hermione demanded in a weak shout. He was playing with her head; he had to be. He had been doing the same thing all week- what could've possibly changed?

Again Harry shrugged, only this time he dropped the gun on the floor, "I'm not, 'Mione."

"Don't call me that," she said, as dangerously as possible.

Harry didn't apologize or take it back. All he did was take a step forward so that he was standing squarely in front of Hermione.

"I'm right here, about to kill you and you don't even want to try and defend yourself?" she asked, half incredulous, half furious. Who did he think he was?

"I want to say something. If you decide to kill me after, then fine."

Hermione glared at him, convinced that this was another one of his games, "What could you possible have to say to me?"

"You know I didn't kill that bloke," Harry answered, a tone above whispering.

Hermione knitted her eyebrows together but continued to point her gun at him, "Does it even matter now?"

"Yes, because even if I had- and you had the proof, and you were furious with me, you still couldn't do it. You still wouldn't be able to kill me…" he finished, giving her an intense look.

Hermione scoffed, "What makes you think I can't kill you? I've tried before, haven't I?"

Harry ignored her last jab, "For the same reason I couldn't do it to you. Because you still love me…"

Hermione's breathing hitched. That, she hadn't been expecting…

Harry took a step forward but Hermione didn't let down her gun, "We can't let go of each other, 'Mione. No matter how much other people tell us we have to."

Harry took another step forward. Hermione started breathing unevenly, her mouth still open slightly. How could he be saying this to her now? He was only saying this because it was a life or death situation for him. He was tricking her… conning her… he'd surely kill her as soon as she put down her gun. Why hadn't he summoned his wand yet?

Harry took another stride towards her. The gun was now an inch away from his nose, but he didn't hinder. He stared at her harder than ever.

Hermione finally recognized the new shade she'd noticed in his eyes. It wasn't necessarily new; she'd seen it countless times before. Most recently at the Beaumont a few days ago…

Truth was, no matter how hard Hermione tried to repeat that this was all a game, she didn't want to believe it. Her heart wasn't letting her. Harry was right. Leaving him wasn't her idea in the first place. She never wanted to have her heart ripped from her chest, and for the past year she had been trying to put it back together, piece by piece. But Harry was her ultimate band-aid; the only man to find a home in her heart. And if she had a second chance to make them finally right, why the hell would she even gamble with it?

"I-" she squeaked, before Harry swatted the gun out of her hands and brought her lips to his.

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I know, I know- you're mad about the lack of great hot sex in this chapter. I PROMISE, there's no getting around it next time. The follow up to this will be a pure fluff chapter, and it'll be out soon :]

In the meantime, please review!

This'll be my first fic to hit 1,000 reviews :]]