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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Hermione opened the door of her apartment and immediately closed it. She was panting so hard, that it would seem as if somebody had been chasing her. Her heart was beating so fast she could hear its rapid thumps...it hurt. She tried to wipe the mud on her shoes but it still didn't stop her from making a mess as she walked towards her living room, water dripping from her soaked form.
Hermione felt a stinging sensation at her nape as she flopped down on her sofa, not caring whether she wet the couch. She didn't know why but she felt as if someone was watching her. She shook away the thought, naturally assuming the match had unnerved her.
She felt herself shiver and reprimanded herself as she thought of her cloak, which was probably lying on the stands, forgotten and wet. She had left the Quidditch arena so quickly she had failed to notice it had fallen off her shoulders. That was such a loss because her grandmother, who had also been a witch, gave it to her just before she died. Her mother would be terribly mad once she found out what had come of it.
But she couldn't do anything else. Seeing Harry like that, warning him to avoid that bludger had been a dreadful mistake. And as she walked under the rain for some time, she had arrived at the idea that she was a step away from going totally insane.
She knew she still loved Harry despite the years that have come and gone, yet she still hated him. She wanted to be in his life again, but she didn't want to be involved anymore in his affairs.
The thought of him in her life, affecting it, was not something she welcomed. She refused to be involved with him any longer. But she wanted to watch out for him and know that everything was alright where he was concerned.
She sighed in frustration as she stood up and trudged toward her bathroom. Maybe a little shower would mask out her feelings, including the ones she had with Harry. Besides, she needed one, too. Or she might catch a cold or a fever for having walked without care under the rain for over an hour. She turned on the wash and the noise of water whooshing from the faucet drowned out all other sounds around her.
Half an hour later, Hermione stepped out of the bathroom, feeling a little bit more relaxed than she was before, and into the kitchen to get something to drink and eat.
As she rummaged through her freezer, she thought of the things that she could do while she waited for her hair to dry, so she could finally sleep and lose herself in her slumber, and drift away from the memories that seeing Harry for the first time in two years made her remember and miss so much.
She might watch a movie tonight, just to lead her thoughts away from what happened. Or she could just listen to her neighbors argue from the other side of the room -- that had been something she avoided over the past week because she felt it rude to be listening to personal matters, but not tonight, because tonight, she would actually welcome their yells and their cusses, shunning all propriety. And if she got desperate enough, she might actually go and visit her landlady, for some casual talk. And that would be no fun at all.
But she just might…just might…to forget.
After retrieving some left over chips and a can of soda, she walked barefooted to her couch. She sat down, hissed lightly and stood up abruptly as she suddenly remembered that she had wet it when she sat down earlier. As she glided her hands on it to feel the dampness, she was slightly stunned to find it completely dry.
She shrugged the thought away since, logically speaking, it might have dried off. She then started tossing aside magazines to look for her T.V. guide. As she reached across the table, something soft and flowing grazed the back of her palm.
In the darkness of the night, she hadn't noticed it, but as she flipped the switch and light flooded the room, she heard herself gasp in shock.
There, gracefully laid on the other couch was her grandmother's cloak. She still hadn't gotten over her alarm when she heard a rustle of movement a few feet from her. She looked up, but the gasp that threatened to come out of her was blocked by her hand which had covered her mouth in surprise.
Rage replaced her shock as she took a step backward. All of a sudden, the memories that she had kept at bay earlier that evening came, filling her head, shunning away all other thoughts. Over the past two years, she tried to bury these memories away, and had never planned to unearth them again.
But seeing Harry tonight had dug some out, and now, just knowing he was a few feet away, she knew that they were all out, exposed and ready to torment her once more like they did before.
She felt tears well up in her eyes. But even as she spoke, her voice was eerily calm. "Who told you where I live?"
"I'm an auror, Hermione. Remember? I've been trained to track people." He tipped his head towards the cloak. "The moment I found it, I knew it meant something."
"I reckon rumors are true, then." She murmured with belated humor. "You really are a good auror."
Harry smirked. "Not nearly good enough or I'd have found you right after you left." He smiled without compassion as he saw her look at him in surprise. "Don't look so shocked, Hermione. Didn't you think I would try to find you?" He said. Then he looked at her sweetly, with sarcasm, of course. "By the way, have you any idea what you put me through?"
Hermione shook her head even and managed to voice out in an audible whisper. "No."
"Don't bother telling me you don't." He said softly, still not moving. "You didn't say a word when you left. I couldn't find a trace of you because you didn't leave anything behind. Can you imagine just how many nights I couldn't sleep at all, trying to come up with answers that only you could give me? Up to now, I still don't get why you just didn't tell me you wanted me in your life."
"Would you have listened?" Hermione said softly, gaining confidence now to reveal her misgivings with him. "I told you before, in Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom to never come near me again, but you didn't listen. You didn't leave me alone to do things for myself. I felt trapped."
"I had no idea you wanted me completely out of your life." Harry reasoned out, moving a bit closer. "It might have helped if you added you couldn't stand the sight of me."
Hermione laughed bitterly, stepping back, his closeness nearly suffocating her, yet suddenly, all she wanted to do was remove the worry away from his mind, and to assure him that she still cared for him.
She sobered without a moment's hesitation, as if giving up all pretenses. "I couldn't do that. I'm not as heartless as you think. I still cared for you despite what I said. I didn't want to hurt your feelings."
"I didn't get the hint that you wanted me out of your life so you got out of mine. Is that it? If you thought that was your safe way out of not hurting me, you were wrong." He said thoroughly.
"I know I was, but I had nothing else to do." She said, exhausted of all the bickering and just wanting to have it end soon. She didn't want to make the matter worse than before. She wanted to have things all right between the two of them, finally, after three years.
"Why did you come back anyway?" Harry asked, shoving his hands in his pocket, wanting to open up a new topic, a new one that wouldn't lead to another debate. He was hoping that by clearing things up between the two of them, they might have some room to become friends again…and more.
"I couldn't bear not seeing everyone again." Hermione said truthfully, wanting the conversations as much as he did. "Scotland was a nice place to forget. But London is my home. I didn't want to live the rest of my life in a place that isn't my home."
"What exactly did you intend `to forget'?"
"Things…" She said evasively, her throat working convulsively, as she realized that her answer would stir his anger again.
She was trying hard not to cry, trying hard to ignore the way he was looking at her with those intense eyes of his. From the moment he appeared in front of her, all she wanted to do was have him hold her in his arms.
She now knew she still loved him completely, desperately, more than she did three years ago. No matter how long it had been or would be, she could and would never stop loving him. Yet she couldn't bring herself to say it. He needed answers. He wanted them and she couldn't give them because she realized once he knew everything, he might not want to be with her anymore.
"To forget me?" Harry asked, helplessly.
Hermione couldn't look at him straight in the eye and he felt a strong sense of loss and depression. Harry had not believed what Ron told him, hoping that it was just something she told him to stop Ron's questions, but seeing her reaction now, looking at her while she couldn't seem to meet his gaze; it was like pulling the world from under him.
"Why?" He asked, bracing himself for her answer. He was afraid she would tell him she no longer loved him.
"Because I couldn't bear to think you said you loved me just so you wouldn't be alone. You saying that after breaking up with Cho shattered all my thoughts of you saying those words to me because you really wanted to be with me, not just because you were suddenly alone." Hermione said, voicing out the cause that she once thought was reasonable.
Harry could only stare at her in disbelief. Harry could "God! It's been three years, Hermione, and you still keep holding that against me. I told you before. I never said that just to have you become a rebound." He said with a horrified look on his face.
"What else was I to think?" She countered defensively. "You've always liked her. How was I supposed to believe that you gave her up, your lifelong fantasy, for someone like me?"
"Someone like you?" He asked.
"Yeah, someone like me, a repulsive know-it-all with nothing to give you but stupid lessons and equations."
"Why do you keep on downplaying yourself? Can't you believe that looks aren't everything? Do you actually think of me as superficial to just like somebody because of how they look?" Harry asked her, looking quite edgy.
"No. It's not that."
"Then what is it?" He asked. Then he shook his head when she started to open her mouth in reply. Instead, he rubbed his hand at the nape of his neck and let out a long sigh of frustration.
"What?" Hermione challenged firmly.
"Can I ask you something?"
"You just did."
"Since when did you start making jokes?" He said without humor. "Do you even know why I broke up with Cho?"
The question had been absurd and she was about to say how ridiculous it was when she realized that during the three years that had passed, she never asked or bothered to find out the reason. The subject never came up after that day in Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom and she didn't realize it hadn't, so even until now; the answer was still a mystery to her.
Harry smiled at her silence. He already knew and had accepted that mistake of hers. All the suffering he had endured was simply because of a misunderstanding both of them had forgotten to clear. He could have blamed her for her lack of insight, but then, he would also have to blame himself for not having the initiative to offer the information.
He decided to put an end to both their miseries and explained, smiling in spite of himself. "After you told Ron to tell me to leave the Hospital Wing, I had gone to take out my anger in the Quidditch Field. When I went down, Cho was there. But because I was too preoccupied to pay attention to her, she accused me of not wanting her there. Although I said it wasn't the reason I was distant, I knew that I would rather have her someplace else than beside me. All of a sudden, she had this sudden urge to say things about you and that was when I felt something was wrong between us." He shrugged.
Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was all of it true? If it were, then what were those years of her being alone for?
In the depth of her silence and thinking, Harry continued. "It didn't feel right. And with her mocking you every chance she got, I couldn't take it anymore. So I did the only thing I felt then was right. I told her I loved you. As I did, I knew that I had been a complete idiot about it. I should have realized that earlier and I wasted so much time looking like an idiot. It would have been useless to go on knowing how I felt." He grinned at her for an unknown reason.
Then he took a step forward, Hermione moved back involuntarily, but her couch blocked her escape. She was left standing only less than a foot away, yet despite the protests her mind was screaming, she couldn't make herself move. She slowly felt the barricade she had carefully erected between the two of them crumble as his eyes, those glorious green eyes of his, looked down on her own.
"You always held my confession against me, Hermione." He said, having the nerve to skim his palms down her arms. He felt her shiver and grinned. He reached up and brushed back tendrils of her hair behind her ear. "I admit I said it at the wrong time. I should have waited another day, but you were going back to risk your life just to tell me something I already knew. I couldn't think of anything else to make you stay. If you ask me, I wouldn't have had it any other way."
Hermione brushed away his hand. "I can't do this, Harry."
"Why?" He frowned, his hand stilling in the act of caressing her cheek.
"It's too soon."
"But you love me, don't you?" he asked, cupping her face in the palm of his hands, and then looking at her eyes, searching for the answer he already knew.
"I don't know…yes, maybe."
"That's all I need to know…"
Without another word, he had her in his arms and his lips were suddenly on hers, moving with quiet intensity and purpose. Hermione's eyes widened in shock at the first contact, but as his mouth moved over hers softly, persistent and sweet, she let out a sigh, closed her eyes and lost herself.
Sensing his victory, Harry claimed it and tightened his hold on her. Having her clutch his arms in support was like inviting a starving man to a banquet. Without inhibitions, he took the invitation. He deepened the kiss as he poured every ounce of his emotions into it.
He had pictured this moment every night since the day she left, but what was happening now was like nothing he'd imagined. Long before, he had given up the idea that he could feel this someday. And even now that it was happening in reality, he couldn't stop asking if the woman he had in his arms was really the woman he loved.
Hermione couldn't think at all.
Harry was kissing her…
And it was not just the kiss…it was the whole thing. He loved her. He really did.
A thousand different nights, she had fantasized this moment. Now that it was here, she could no longer hold her emotions back because of the happiness she felt. After all those years of misery, Harry was here.
With all the passion she had in her heart, she released her hold on his arms and slid them up his chest to link them behind his neck. As she did, she suddenly realized that it was not right to be doing this, nor was it entirely wrong, but still, it was happening too fast.
She felt tears on her cheeks and was about to wipe them when Harry pulled away. He looked at her with concern, green eyes searching hers. Hermione had the feeling that the sudden graveness in them was because he thought she didn't want any of it.
Abruptly, he let her go and shoved his hands in his pocket. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."
Hermione looked at him, feeling desperate and sorry that it had to end, but they had to talk about the three years that had gone by and not just act as if a simple kiss would make up for all the times that they had both been stupid.
"No, you shouldn't have." She replied. Then she touched his cheek and purposefully made him look at her. "But I would have hated you if you didn't." She smiled at the confusion that had suddenly materialized on his face. It's just; I can't believe this is happening. We haven't cleared things between us. I haven't apologized to you for what I did."
Harry laughed, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden. "I told you before and I'll say it again. I wouldn't have had it any other way."
"But…"
He cut off her protest with a light kiss and pulled back quickly. "Don't say another word. I wouldn't listen to any of it. Besides, it was my fault just as it had been yours, so there's no use apologizing and feeling terrible because we both did what we wanted to do. And we got to the end of it, which is a very good one, might I add."
"Oh, Harry. We can't just act as if things didn't happen." Hermione groaned, looking away.
After staring at her with questioning eyes, he sighed in defeat, knowing that she wouldn't be swayed. He sat down and pulled her beside him. After silently staring at nothing for a few minutes…
"Harry."
"Hermione"
They said in unison. And then they laughed. The tension that they felt over what happened lessened.
"You go first." Harry offered thoughtfully.
"I'm sorry about not giving you the chance to explain. I should have let you. I just couldn't think straight, knowing it was impossible for you to suddenly love me after Cho." She shook her head remorsefully. "I'm sorry that I left. I was angry and bitter at you. I thought that by doing that, I could get my revenge. But all I got was a couple of awful years."
Harry took her hand in his. "You shouldn't be saying that. I should have been with you from the start. I'm not saying I approve of you leaving, though. It did really get to me." He said seriously, and then he grinned at her. "But that's over now. Let's just forget it, all right? What matters is that you're here," He leaned over and gave her a sweet fleeting kiss, "With me."
"I don't know what else to say. I just feel guilty about hurting you." Her voice broke and Harry felt his heart ache with compassion.
"Sweetheart, if you're that worried about me, then I should be more troubled." Harry asked her, turning her face towards his so that he could look in her eyes.
"Aren't you?"
"No."
She frowned at this, and he had to chuckle as he saw her expression. "Because I intend to make it up to you."
"When?"
"Now." He said, lightly brushing his lips against hers, "Tomorrow," Another kiss, "And the day after that…" Another kiss.
"We don't have to rush things, you know. I don't expect you to offer the world to me in just one night." Hermione said, her throat working convulsively.
"Sweetheart, I've been waiting for this moment for three years. You want the world? It's in my closet; I'll give it to you first thing in the morning."
"Harry, don't be like that." She said, but despite that, she laid her head on his shoulders, feeling quite sleepy. "It's enough for me to know things are all right between us. Finally."
"Yeah. And to think, you were not going to talk to me." He chuckled.
"I just couldn't because I was sure you'd make me love you again." She said, yawning.
"And did I?" he asked solemnly, hoping her answer would be yes.
Silence.
He glanced down, thinking that she didn't want to answer him, but smiled instead, when he saw that she was fast asleep. Without another word, he lifted her from the sofa and searched for her bedroom.
Looking around, he only saw two other doors aside from the front door. Knowing she had taken a shower behind the other door, Harry went to the other and opened it. Sure enough, it was her bedroom.
Not bothering to switch on the lights, he laid her on the bed and tucked her under the covers. Somewhere in his distant mind, he vaguely remembered a moment like this, three years ago, when he had saved her from drowning. Back then, he had no right to touch her or feel the way he felt right now.
But things had changed, and here he was now, free to look at her, free to touch her, and free to love her. He never thought this day would happen, but dreams come true, and this woman right here, was enough proof that they do.
He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips. "I love you." Harry said as he straightened. "I hope you believe that now."
He had already turned around to leave when there was movement from behind him and a hand came in contact with his. He looked back and saw that Hermione was somehow awake, her eyes barely open and her mouth lightly apart. "Stay." She said.
For a moment, he hesitated. "You sure?" He asked, bemused.
She nodded. Silently, he eased her hold on his arm and sat down on the edge of the bed. He took off his shoes and shrugged out of his cloak.
When he was done, Hermione lifted the covers so that he could slide in and Harry lay on his back. She moved closer and laid her head on his shoulder, reveling in the feeling of being close to him. She sighed dreamily and laid her hand on his heart. Harry found himself smiling as he placed his own on top of hers.
"Goodnight, Hermione." He said quietly, placing a kiss on her forehead, and then closing his eyes to the world.
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Hermione knew that Harry was already asleep the moment she opened her eyes to look at him. She smiled. He was here, with her.
As she looked at his face, a tingling sensation made Hermione remember a question he asked that she wasn't able to answer. Wanting to give him a reply even though he was already sleeping, she moved closer, her mouth an inch from his ear. "You didn't have to make me love you again, Harry." She whispered, smoothing the hair on his forehead, she caught a glimpse of his scar, and then, she kissed his cheek lightly before adding. "I never stopped."
Suddenly his muscles flexed and his hold on her tightened. Somehow, he had heard her. That feeling, and the smile that suddenly was on his lips, was what she took with her in her sleep.
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