A/N - thanks again for the reviews and for letting me know what you thought. This will be the make or break chapter 'cause things get heavy in this one! Oh, and the reviewer who mentioned that I make Ron a bit of a dunce - fair enough. I think he gets redeemed. Thanks again, everyone. Oh, by the way - this story is finished so I will be posting at least every two days (if my life allows it). Cheers.
Chapter 3
Never in his life had he been more confused. Hermione loved him. She loved him so much, she was willing to walk away so he could find happiness with Ginny.
Hermione loved him.
The thought kept rolling around in his mind, popping into his head when he lest expected it. He had shut himself up in Grimmauld Place, refusing to see or talk to anyone, wanting to get things sorted before he met the people that it all affected:
Ron
Hermione
Ginny
Ron fancied Hermione, that was a fact. He may not have said as much but Ron cared deeply and Harry knew that Ron would be hurt badly if he found out that Hermione harboured feelings for Harry. Hurting Ron was the last thing he wanted to do.
But he also knew that Ron and Hermione would never work even if he wasn't part of the equation, that they were too different for whatever they had to last. Hermione knew it and even though he didn't want to admit it, Ron knew it too.
Still, as things stood right now, Ron wanted to marry Hermione.
The other part of the saga was Ginny. The girl he had thought about so much over the last few years, the girl who he thought was perfect for him, the girl who he dreamt he'd marry and mother his children. Yet Harry was having trouble moving on with Ginny. They were together, yes, but it didn't seem real. Harry knew he was hiding things from his girlfriend, not telling her the truths about what had happened while they were apart because that was part of a life that was separate from the life he had with her.
It was the life he shared with Hermione.
But it was Hermione who told him he needed to let Ginny in, open up to her and give her a chance to understand why he was like he was. The trouble with that though was that Harry didn't think Ginny would like what she'd find. He was her hero, will always be there to save the day - not the scarred, wounded boy that he thought himself to be.
It was these thoughts that disturbed Harry the most. He knew he wasn't a hero, no matter how many parades and victory balls and award ceremonies there were telling him otherwise. He knew he didn't do what he did on his own, that he couldn't have done it on his own, that he needed the help of so many people to get rid of Voldemort. He knew what he had seen and what he had done had changed him in a way that Ginny would never understand because she hadn't been there.
Hermione had.
Something in Harry told him that even if he told Ginny everything in all its gory detail, she still wouldn't understand. She'd try, but it would just be a story to her, like something written in the multitude of books that had started springing up telling the world about the real 'Harry Potter'.
So he sat in his house, mulling over again and again what he was going to do. He couldn't lose Hermione as a friend - that just wasn't an option. But how could their friendship survive now? In two weeks he would be in Auror training and she'll be in Oxford starting her degree at some university and any chance to sort it all out would be lost.
Harry really didn't know what to do or what to think.
Hermione loved him. Did he love her? He had told Ron that he did, but as a sister - has that changed? Harry didn't know. He did know that Hermione was important to him, very important to him. She alone had stood by him throughout their friendship, had given up the most to be with him and really asked for nothing in return. She had been there when he had needed her.
Because she loved him.
Running his hand through his terribly unkept hair, he let out a groan of frustration. It was Ginny, not Hermione, that he was supposed be with. Wasn't it?
"Master Harry, sir?"
Harry looked down at the house elf with a frown - it was well past breakfast therefore there was no reason for Kreacher to disturb him.
"What is it, Kreacher?" he snapped.
"I's told the Miss that you were seeing no-one," Kreacher told him quickly, "I's told her Master Harry, like I's told everyone else. But she said she wouldn't leave!"
"Hermione's here?" he exclaimed, surprised.
"Yes, Master Harry," Kreacher nodded enthusiastically, "the Miss is in the square."
A million thoughts powered through his brain, his heart going at the same speed. He wasn't ready to talk to her, not yet, everything was still such a mess. But she was here and part of him wanted to see her, if only to let her know how much her confession was affecting him.
There were so many emotions pounding him as he stood there trying to work out what he was going to do - one minute he was terrified that when he saw her, he wouldn't know what to say, another minute he was embarrassed, another minute he was angry that she had put him through all this turmoil.
But first he wanted to see what she was like since he saw her last. He made his way up to the room that oversaw the square outside Grimmauld Place and there she was, sitting on the grass, reading a book, looking calm and poised. For some reason, seeing her so serene incensed Harry - he had spent two weeks agonising over her confession and it seemed it hadn't impacted on her at all!
Storming down the stairs, he dragged open the door and thundered his way over to her. She heard his arrival and looked up at him, a small frown creasing her brow.
"You're not dead, then," she said nonchalantly.
"No, of course not," he scowled at her, "what are you doing here?"
"Well, Ron came and saw me this morning and said you were refusing to see anyone," she told him, marking then closing her book, "he thought I'd might be able to get through to you, so here I am."
"I needed some time to myself to think!" he growled, "you hit me with a bombshell and then just buggered off!"
"You're right," she sighed, looking at the book in her lap, "and I'm sorry for that. However," she looked back to him, "you're going about this the wrong way, Harry. Shutting yourself off like you have, it's not healthy. Everyone is so worried about you…"
"So they send you to draw me out," he snapped, still angry.
"It worked, didn't it?" she smiled at him, returning his glare unflinchingly, though there was a sadness in her eyes as well, "I'm truly sorry I've upset you," she continued softly, "I honestly thought you would just mull over my unexpected confession but realise that it didn't matter because you are in love with Ginny."
"How can you think I can just forget what you said?" he questioned sharply, though he could feel his anger ebbing away, "and I don't love Ginny."
"You will," she told him confidently. Harry didn't say anything, just took a deep breath and tried to get himself together. After a moment's pause, Hermione spoke again.
"I had a word with Ron," she said and he looked at her curiously, "I've told him that he and I will never be together romantically."
"What did you say?" he asked, sitting down next to her on the grass, "what happened?"
"It was a few days after I left here," she replied, "I told him that I love him, but only as a friend, that he and I were just too different…"
"You didn't mention…" Harry cut in.
"No," she glanced at him with a wry smile on her face, "I didn't think telling Ron that one of the many reasons he and I could never be a couple was because I was in love with his best friend was particularly advantageous."
"Oh."
"However," Hermione continued, "I did tell him that I could never give him what he wanted, what he deserved and that there was someone out there for him that would love him for who he was and not try and make him into something different, like I was."
"Bloody hell," Harry muttered, "how did he take all of that?"
"He was upset but I think he was expecting it," she shrugged sadly, "he knew something wasn't right and after your birthday, well, I think he thought it was just a matter of time. He apologised for his behaviour and nearly killing me, by the way."
"As he bloody well should," Harry grunted.
"Ron and I are fine," she carried on, "a bit awkward at the moment, but fine," she paused as she took a deep breath before asking quietly, "are you and I fine, Harry?"
"I dunno," he admitted, just as quiet, "I want us to be. Are…are you okay with…everything?"
"It feels strange that you know," she told him, "but your friendship means so much to me, Harry. Everything's changing and to be honest, it's all rather scary. But I hope you and I will get past this."
"So do I," he agreed. They both sat in silence for a little while, lost in their own thoughts. It wasn't as uncomfortable as Harry had feared, in fact now she was here, it didn't feel any different at all.
"We should go and do something," Hermione suggested suddenly, Harry glancing at her in surprise, "go and do something fun! You've shut yourself up in that dark and dreary place for two weeks, missing all this brilliant sunshine - let's go and see London!"
"Do something fun?" he repeated stupidly.
"Why not?" she said enthusiastically, facing him, her eyes glowing, "I know one doesn't usually associate fun with me, but goodness - tomorrow I'm going to Ireland with my parents for a holiday and by the time I come back, you'll be in training and I'll be at school! This will be our last time together until Christmas, why not just do something silly for once?"
"You never said anything about going on holiday," Harry accused, ignoring everything else.
"Because it didn't really matter," she rolled her eyes, "oh, come on Harry! I've already warned mum and dad that I'd be late, knowing how stubborn you are when you get in one of your moods…"
"I don't have moods," he mumbled.
"Of course you have moods," she told him brightly, "for goodness sake, if anyone deserves to have moods, it's you! So, what do you say? Are you up for a bit of a laugh?"
He couldn't help but smile at her excitement and it did sound a lot better than mopping around Grimmauld Place worrying about everything. Sure, it won't be like hanging around with Ron, but Harry knew Hermione enough to know it would still be fun.
"Okay," he replied, finally, "sure. What do you have in mind?"
"Brilliant!" she exclaimed, standing as she put her book in the large bag that had been laying on the ground beside her, "I don't know - let's just play it by ear! We could pretend to be tourists or something!"
Harry was lost for words - Hermione was wearing a dress. A summer dress. And she looked rather stunning. She frowned slightly when she noticed he was staring at her and nervously straightened a few creases in her skirt, looking at it as if to see if something was wrong.
"What is it?" she asked him, worried, "have I got something on my dress?"
"Er…no," Harry managed to stutter, "it's just that, well, I've never seen you in a dress before…"
"Oh," she smiled shyly, "it's new - do you like it? We've had such lovely weather and what with going to university where I don't have to wear a uniform, I went out and bought a horrendous amount of new clothes."
"It's…nice."
"Thank you, Harry," she beamed, "now go on! Go and change, you look absolutely frightful. Honestly, one would think you couldn't take care of yourself on your own!"
Harry found himself grinning at her as he headed back towards the house. Half and hour later he was freshly groomed and walking beside Hermione as they made their way towards the local tube station. There, they found a tourist guide and over a cup of coffee, they decided on the first course of action.
As the day progressed, Harry found himself forgetting the turmoil of the past few weeks though he kept his hands firmly in his pockets, determined not to touch her as they took in the sights of London. He still found himself having fun, however, and saw a side of his best friend that had been hidden from him during their time at Hogwarts. She still got caught up in the facts and histories of many of the places they visited, reading out the information in the pamphlets they collected along their way as if Harry was even remotely interested. But she also laughed and got excited and was, well, a girl.
Every now and then, they would pause in their sight seeing because she would see something in a shop or at a stall that took her interest, making Harry hover impatiently as she browsed, sometimes asking his opinion on some item she had found. At first it had been embarrassing but as they spent more time together, even the act of shopping with a girl turned out to be a bit of fun.
They had dinner at a nice looking pub where they sat and reminisced about their day over a plate of food and a couple of lagers. Harry had been introduced to Muggle beer at lunchtime and found himself enjoying the taste, knocking a couple back as he ate his meal and talked to Hermione.
By the time they left the pub, the sun was setting and although he wasn't drunk, Harry could feel that he was awfully relaxed. They walked along a path that ran along side the Thames, momentarily silent but comfortable.
"Oh, Harry," Hermione suddenly gasped, stopping, "look!"
Harry followed her pointed finger to see the Houses of Parliament light up along the other side of the Thames, the tower of Big Ben rising next to it. Hermione went to the rail that separated the path from the river, and leaned on it so she could get a better look. The wind captured her hair and the hem of her dress, blowing them both slightly out behind her while the setting sun surrounded her in an ethereal glow. She had never looked more beautiful.
He saw a shiver pass over her, and without really thinking too much about it, he came behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her to him, touching her for the first time that day.
"Are you cold?" he asked unnecessarily as she snuggled a bit deeper into his embrace.
"A bit," she admitted, before adding, "isn't that beautiful?"
"Not as beautiful as you," he breathed into her ear, the alcohol in him making him bold.
Hermione swivelled around in his embrace, looking up at him curiously. He just smiled down at her, letting her do what he knew she had to do - think. The day with her had been perfect, just what he needed, and right now he was so relaxed that the feeling was actually alien to him.
As he looked down on her, a new feeling began to run through him, a desire he never thought he'd feel when it came to Hermione. But she was in his arms, feeling wonderful and watching him with eyes that he found himself being lost in - it all felt so right.
So when she kissed him, there was no hesitation for him to return her kiss. There was a brief thought that it was wrong, that this was his best friend - but that disappeared when her hands began to run trails up and down his back. The kiss was intense, igniting a passion in him that he realised was going to be extremely hard to extinguish.
"Take me home," she told him, her voice husky and seductive, her mouth away from his to speak. He wondered if she meant her home, the home where her parents were waiting and where any chance of progressing further would end. But the way she was nibbling on his neck, her hands in his hair and on his back told him that it was his home she was talking about.
Breaking away from her, but grabbing her hand tightly, he pulled her over to some shadows and with a thought, was on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place. He barged open the door and as soon as it was closed, she was kissing him again. This time, he knew it was her thought that took them to his bedroom because he was no longer capable of thinking.
She had him on his bed, undoing his shirt and trailing kisses down his chest every time more skin was exposed. The experience was blowing his mind - the way her hair tickled him after the fire her lips produced, the way her hands felt so soft but so hard at the same time.
When she began to undo his belt and unbutton his jeans, suddenly coherent thought returned - if she followed this path, he knew there was no return.
"Hermione," he groaned, missing her touch as she looked up at him, "we can't…"
"Please, give me this, Harry," she begged him softly.
"Are…are you sure?"
"Absolutely," she purred before stopping any more talk by kissing him deeply while her hands still worked on his jeans, her touch bringing him waves of pleasure.
Later, as she lay in his arms idly drawing circles on his chest, he was able to really think about what just happened. He had had sex with Hermione. His first time had been with Hermione. Her first time had been with him. They had had sex.
He was both terrified and strangely satisfied. Part of him was glad that he had shared this momentous occasion with the girl that had already shared practically every huge event in his life - losing his virginity with Hermione seemed rather apt.
Yet, there was gnawing guilt that he had taken advantage of her, that he had let his teenage hormones ruin his friendship with someone who meant so much to him. That things had already been complicated by the fact that she loved him but he didn't feel the same.
And, of course, he was officially with Ginny. He has cheated on his girlfriend.
"I'm sorry," he whispered - her hand stopped moving.
"Sorry?" she repeated, "why?"
"Because…because I've taken advantage of you," he continued quietly, "I shouldn't have let this happen…"
"Shh…" she breathed, sitting up slightly as she placed a finger over his lips, her eyes boring into his, "don't. Give me this, Harry, give me this moment." She leaned forward and kissed him gently. As if they had a mind of their own, his hands found their way into her hair, holding her into her kiss. She climbed on top of him, her lips leaving his mouth and making their way down his jaw to his neck and then continued downwards, kissing, nipping, licking…
Their love making this time was slow and generous, both exploring the other, bringing each other pleasures that weren't there in the rush of their first joining. By the time he was spent, any feeling of discontent had gone and in moments, he was asleep with Hermione wrapped up in his arms.
'What if I'm in Slytherin?'
The whisper was for his father alone, and Harry knew that only the moment of departure could have forced Albie to reveal how great and sincere that fear was.
Harry crouched down so that Albie's face was slightly above his own. Alone of Harry's three children, Albie had inherited Lily's eyes.
'Albie James,' Harry said quietly so that nobody but his son could hear, 'we've had this discussion before - there is nothing wrong with being in Slytherin. In fact, one of the bravest men I knew was a Slytherin.'
'But just say…'
'…then Slytherin house will have gained an excellent student, won't it?' Harry ruffled his son's hair fondly as he stood.
'Harry?'
Harry looked around for the person who called his name and saw both Hermione and Ginny looking at him expectantly.
'Harry?' the voice said again, and he recognised it, it was…
"Hermione?"
"Sorry to wake you," Hermione whispered, handing him his glasses. When she came into focus, he frowned when he saw she was fully clothed, kneeling down beside his bed.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"I have to go," she told him, catching her bottom lip between her teeth, "I…I just wanted to say goodbye…"
"You're leaving?"
"I should get home before my parents wake," she tried to explain, "we leave for Ireland this morning."
"But we need to talk!" he cried, sitting up, clutching the bedclothes to his waist, terribly aware that he was naked underneath, "we need to sort things out…"
"Harry…"
"I'm so sorry Hermione," he interrupted embarrassedly, "I'm so very, very sorry…"
"You have nothing to be sorry about," she smiled sadly at him, "if anyone should be apologising, it's me."
"This is not your fault…"
"Yes, it is," she countered quickly, "I've wanted you for so long, dreamt about having you and what it would be like. It was never my intention for this to happen but today was so much fun! And then you said I was beautiful and I looked at you…I knew what I was doing, Harry. I knew if I kissed you, where that could lead. But I don't regret it for a moment, I don't regret this for a moment.
"Tomorrow, we start our separate lives. This changes nothing."
"How can you say that?" he asked her with a frown, "Hermione, this changes everything!"
"No…"
"We had sex!" he cried, startling her slightly, "twice! How can that not change everything! Do you just expect me to forget this ever happened? Is that what you're going to do?"
"No…"
"Every time I look at you now, I'll remember tonight! How you felt, how smelt - how you tasted! How you looked! Oh, God, how you looked!" In exasperation, he leaned forward and clasped his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his bent knees. He closed his eyes but the image of her danced in front of him - he let out a groan of frustration.
"You're right."
He opened his eyes and looked at Hermione, who had stood and backed away from the bed, her arms wrapped around herself.
"What?" he blurted out.
"You're right," she repeated sadly, "I've ruined everything. Typical," she chuckled to herself, "the first time I think with my heart and not my head, I bugger it up.
"I'm sorry Harry, I'm so, so sorry. I knew how it would be for me, how I would cope with what I've done but I wanted to be with you so badly, I didn't think about what it would do to you. I've been selfish and I understand why you hate me…"
"I don't hate you, Hermione."
"Well, you should," she sighed, looking down at the floor, "I've made such a mess of things."
"This is my fault too," he said, no longer angry, "I…I could've said no. I should've said no."
"I practically threw myself at you, Harry," she gave him a small smile, glancing at him briefly, "I know you're not attracted to me, but goodness, I didn't really give you much choice!"
"We always have a choice," he told her quietly, and a conversation with Dumbledore that he had a lifetime ago flickered through his mind.
She didn't say anything, but her gaze returned to the carpet and Harry sighed.
"What happens now?" he asked and then waited as she got her thoughts together. After a moment, she looked up at him.
"You'll go and make up with Ron," she told him firmly, "forgive him and let him be your best friend. Then you'll talk to Ginny, let her in, open up to her. Let yourself be happy with her. Let yourself fall in love…"
"I don't know…"
"You've wanted her for so long, Harry," Hermione cut in, "you love her, I know it. You just need to believe it."
"If I love Ginny," Harry ventured with a frown, "why did I sleep with you? Why am I here with you?"
"Because I'm what you know," she answered softly. They looked at each other in the semi-darkness, both waiting for the other's move. When Hermione made her way over to him, a sense of anticipation went through him. She reached out and ran a finger gently down from his scar to his jaw, a touch that made him long for more.
"You are an incredible man, Harry Potter," she whispered, a tear rolling down one cheek, "and I'm sorry for making things even more complicated for you than they already were. I never meant to hurt you, I really didn't. But that's my only regret, that I hurt you. Everything else was, well, magical.
"Go to Ginny, Harry. Talk to her, give her a chance."
She leant forward and gave him a chaste kiss on the mouth, and then with a pop, she was gone. Moments later he heard the front door open and close and Harry knew he was alone.
Lying down with a groan, he took his glasses off, put them on the nightstand and tried to get back to sleep. After about half and hour of tossing and turning, he realised that sleep wasn't going to happen so instead he began to think. By the time the sunlight began to enter his room, Harry had a plan.
A/N 2 - ah, I bet you didn't expect that to happen, huh? See, this is based on me. I followed a boy that I loved half way around the world only to be told he didn't feel the same. I still wanted him though, and actually got my way for one lovely night. Ohhh. Wasn't my 'first' though and I romantically love the idea that Harry was Hermione's first. Hence this chapter. I hope it hasn't put you off…