~Chapter Seven~
Love-Hate
Harry and Hermione sat silently in the car. Harry would have been happy to have talked with Hermione, but she was still pissed at him for sneaking out of the hospital. She had promised Ginny that she would keep him at the hospital, in the bed, until Ginny got back from checking on James. Harry had other ideas, though, and the minute Ginny disappeared, Harry had sprung out of bed.
"Harry, hide your shame," Hermione had cried, covering her eyes at the flapping back of his gown.
"It's just my bum, Hermione," Harry had teased as he slid his jeans on to his body. "What can I say? Underwear chafes me."
"I didn't need to know that, Harry, and you had better back into bed," Hermione protested. "Ginny made me promise."
"Come on, Hermione, live a little," Harry taunted as he pulled the gown free of his body, tossing it back on the hospital bed. He searched the floor and bed for his tee shirt. He saw it peeking behind Hermione and lunged for it, Hermione's eyes shot open wide as her face nearly brushed his own cheek.
"No, Harry," Hermione barked sharply. They had come too close before and she didn't need a repeat of those long, difficult, awkward silences that had spanned between them.
"I was just getting my shirt, Hermione," Harry said knowingly as he pulled it on over his head. "Plus, you're not my type. You are too smart. I have to be the smartest person in my relationship." Hermione had to smile at that one. Ginny was forever out smarting him at things he had no interest in.
"Harry, I am warning you," Hermione said.
Harry had left the room and Hermione had followed. He knew she would. She was loyal like that. He could always count on her to follow him anywhere he wanted to go, no matter what. He knew it was wrong, but when they had spent the months following the war together and he was with Ginny, he couldn't help but let his mind wander to Hermione.
He thought of the tattoos that he and Hermione nearly had gotten during those days following the war, the drinks they had shared, the nights that they had spent together. Then life went back to normal, and Ginny demanded Harry back into her life. Hermione wasn't ready to move further forward with Harry, not like Ginny, and things returned back to normal. Ginny and Harry had married, and Ron and Hermione had married. Things were great, but that didn't keep Hermione out of Harry's mind.
It had been a few years ago. Harry's hands clenched the steering wheel as he thought about it. They had been working long nights, trying to solve some cases that seemed rather dark and ominous. Neither could vent to their spouses, because of the Code of Aurors, and they were spending a lot of time together. Harry wasn't clear who had made the move first, or if the delirium of long, stressful night was the cause, but Hermione and he had kissed.
Harry's mind traveled to that night in question, a few years back. They were the only ones left in their office, pouring over pictures and documents. He remembered Hermione had been wearing a brown skirt, flirty and fun, with a matching top, a few buttons loose at the collar to expose her slender neck and a bit of her cleavage. The necklace Ron had given her when their daughter was born had reflected off the desk lamp, making it impossible for Harry not to look. She had her head tilted back, kneading the muscles in the back of her neck.
"Help me with this," Hermione had asked him, and Harry complied without a second thought, his hands touching her neck with firm pressure. He distinctly heard her sigh and he had dipped his mouth not to her mouth but to the soft skin between her collar bone and neck. She hadn't even tried to bat him away, and they had clawed at each other, removing clothes in haste.
He remembered the look on Hermione's face the first time he took her. No other woman had ever looked at him like that as he delved deep into her. She was hungry, insatiable, and he was a willing feast. He felt her perfectly manicured nails bit into his flesh, clawing to take him in deeper, harder, and not once did he think of Ginny while his lips slid along Hermione's body. He could feel her all over him, smell her on him, and in his head, even these many years later, could still hear the sounds she made. They were raw, animalistic sounds that no woman had ever made with him.
"You are thinking about it again," Hermione told him. Harry's could feel himself being ripped back into the present day.
"What?" Harry asked stupidly. He glanced over at her.
"You are thinking about that night," Hermione said wisely. She didn't look pleased; rather she looked quite angry and disturbed.
"No," Harry lied.
"You can't lie to me, Harry. I know you too well," Hermione warned.
"Is it that obvious?" Harry asked sheepishly.
"You made a noise," Hermione said blushing as she looked out the window.
"Shit," Harry said. He gripped the wheel and glared out the front window.
"Harry, it has been nearly fourteen years," Hermione said quietly, her voice louder than a whisper. "It's time to let go."
Harry and Hermione drove in silence again. It had been like this on and off over the years. Just when they thought that they were immune to the desires of the flesh, Harry or Hermione would fight with their spouses and seek solace in each other's arms. They knew it was wrong, yet they seemed to keep coming back to each other. It was a love-hate relationship. The loved each other, but hated themselves that they did.
The house in Surrey was cute, to say the very least and Harry checked the address. It was the last known address for Melissa Gorokhov, and her daughter Rayleigh Riddle. Harry glanced at himself in the mirror as he and Hermione climbed from the car. She glanced at him, her eye brows raised as they looked at the quaint little house with the kissing gate by the side walk. The yard was a little over grown, but none the less well cared for. Harry pushed the gate open and stepped onto the front porch.
"There is the buzzer, Harry," Hermione said pointing at the small white button by the door. Harry pressed it and could hear the noise echoing in the house. There wasn't any movement inside and Harry pressed the button again.
"Maybe she is out?" Harry offered. Hermione shrugged and peaked through the lacy curtains. The house was furnished, but there wasn't movement in the house.
"Can I help you?" A voice called from behind Harry and Hermione. They turned to see a woman walking up the path, past the gate, with a few heavy brown paper bags in her arms.
"We are looking for Melissa Gorokhov. Do you know where she is?" Harry asked. The woman was wearing dark sunglasses, but he could tell that the question caught her off guard.
"Who is asking?" The woman asked as she struggled with her bags. Harry stepped forward and took the bags from her.
"This is Hermione Weasley, and I am Harry Potter," Harry offered. "We are agents from the ministry."
The woman looked at him curiously then glanced around to her neighbor, an old man who was pruning rose bushes. She waved at him a moment and then walked up the stairs beyond Harry and Hermione. She pulled her key out of her pocket and stuck the key into the lock. The door swung open and the woman allowed them access to the house.
"I am Melissa Gorokhov," she said as she walked into the house's kitchen. The house oddly reminded Harry of his aunt and uncle's house off Privet Drive. It had the same overly clean smell to it. He glanced around as he placed the bags on the counter.
"As I said before, Ms. Gorokhov, we are from the ministry," Harry said as he watched the woman pull her groceries from the bag.
"Did I do something wrong?" Melissa asked as she offered them a drink. Harry and Hermione shook their heads. The woman folded the paper bags and stored them under the sink.
"Well, no," Hermione said. The woman crossed her arms rather defiantly.
"Then I am not sure what you are doing here," Melissa said as she gestured to the living room.
"We are here to discuss you daughter, Rayleigh Riddle," Hermione said as she and Harry took a seat on the couch. The woman sat in the chair.
"Has my daughter done something wrong, Mrs. Weasley? Mr. Potter?" Melissa asked looking at them with a distrusting look.
"No, not that we are aware of," Harry said.
"Well, then, is she hurt or in trouble?" Melissa asked them rather agitatedly. Harry shook her head.
"No, this is actually following up a question of Rayleigh's lineage," Harry said. The woman looked at them with a stony cold look on her face.
"Stop me if I am wrong, but there is a right-to-privacy ordinance that the ministry has implemented to protect the privacy of your type," Melissa said coldly.
"There is," Hermione said simply.
"My daughter is one of your kind, and there for is eligible to for the rights and privileges of your kind," Melissa said rather knowledgeably.
"Do you have a bathroom I can use, and then we will be on our way," Hermione said simply. The woman rolled her eyes and pointed up the stairs.
"Third door on the left," she said coldly. Hermione rose out of her seat and headed up the stairs. Harry watched her leave then turned his attention back to Melissa.
"Melissa, we don't mean to pry or to be disrespectful," Harry started as he hoped to appeal to her better nature.
"And yet, you have been disrespectful and prying," Melissa said coldly as Hermione reappeared.
"We will be leaving, now," Hermione said quietly. "We appreciate your hospitality."
"The pleasure was all yours, I am sure," Melissa said as she held the door open for them.
"We will be in touch, Melissa," Harry said sternly.
"It is Miss Gorokhov to you, Mr. Potter," Melissa said as she shut the door on them and snapped the lock.
"Well, I think that went really well," Harry said sarcastically as he rolled his eyes and headed back to the car. "We don't know anything more than we already knew."
"She has no intention on talking to us," Hermione said as she buckled her seat belt. "At least not right now, not about Rayleigh, but I did manage to get some information while I was upstairs. I don't know how much of it is going to go unnoticed."
Harry saw Hermione pull out some papers and a photograph book from her purse. Far larger than the purse, the book slid easily and Harry assumed Hermione had placed an engorging spell on the purse. The two drove through the muggle drive through and headed to a near by park. Sitting under a tree, they poured through the information Hermione had stolen from the Gorokhov house.
"She was a very pretty baby," Hermione murmured looking at the infant in the arms of Melissa Gorokhov. Harry looked at the picture and nodded. There was an inscription on the picture that had Melissa and Rayleigh's name with a date. The baby had only been a few months old. It was a wizarding picture, the baby's fist shaking in the picture, and Melissa occasionally waving at the camera.
"Look, Hermione, another letter from the father," Harry said pushing the parchment into Hermione's hand over the photo album. It read:
My Lovely Missy,
I know it is hard to let her go, but Rayleigh really belongs at Hogwarts. She is eleven years old, and already she is so talented! I couldn't have been prouder. I know you have a hard time believing that she is going to be great, but I can see it! It was good to see you both again, and it broke my heart to know that all of these years you still haven't moved on. I know, I am a bit hypocritical, I haven't moved on either. How can I when you haunt my dreams? I have loved, really loved, so few women in my life as I have loved you. I see each of those women finally moving on, getting over me, but not you, Missy and it kills me. Please, Missy, please. Think about it. Please let Rayleigh embrace my kind. ~V
"Wow, so he has been in touch with Melissa recently," Hermione whispered. She looked down at a picture and froze. The girl was younger, yes, but Hermione recognized her in an instant. It was the girl from the train station. She was a few years younger, but her eyes were the same, and she practically looked the same.
"Isn't that the girl from the train station?" Harry asked as he glanced at the photo.
"That is what I was thinking," Hermione said. She looked at Harry. "So, do you think that we should make a visit to the school?"
"I think that it might be a great idea, though I don't know what more information we might be able to get there," Harry said quietly. Hermione shrugged and stuffed the information back into her bag. He glanced at his watch and sighed. "We'd better hit the road if we want to make it to our beds tonight." Hermione glanced at him curiously but said nothing as she headed back to the car.
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