Disclaimer : Harry Potter - JKR's. A Plea to End Unrest by Roy Hunt/Harry Potter.
A/N. It's been such a journey so far. We begin this Chapter a couple of hours after we left them at the end of the Prologue. It's long, sweet and fun in some spots but mostly angsty internal dialogue. It deals with sin, consequence, regret, forgiveness, and second chances. I realize these are pretty heavy, boring concepts to deal with in a fic that is supposed to be fun, but I'm a bit loony that way. It was eye opening for me writing it.
Over the next few chapters I'll be flipping back and forth between the past (2006) and the present (2007). Hopefully the dates will help. I thought about rearranging it more chronologically but could not totally do it without disrupting themes and without losing how the past relates to the present.
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Chapter 18 - Of Sin and Consequence
February 15, 2006 - Around 2 a.m., Toronto
A lazy yellow light near the entrance sparsely lit the hotel room, illuminating its two occupants on the king size bed, both unclothed, sheets draped haphazardly over them. The room was now quiet, almost perfectly still, in contrast to the earlier frenzy it was a part of and a witness to.
Harry lay awake propped up on his left side and watched Hermione's face as she slept, resisting the urge to touch her and interrupt the restful state she was in. His senses were still abuzz from their lovemaking and a smile formed on his lips involuntarily as he briefly reminisced how wonderfully unexpected the entire night had been. In one wanton night of attraction and seduction, he and the woman he had known for most of his life as a best friend had become lovers. In one night; for one night.
When they got on the lift he lost control as she brushed up against him. It was the strike of a match and a spark was all that was needed to set them off. He unleashed six months of yearning and wanting her this way, risking everything of his and everything of hers for this thirst for her, for a night of passion that would satisfy his burning desire. He had this one night and this one night only.
Seeing her, touching her and feeling her bare and without cover, connecting and communicating in ways they never did before, he now regarded her in a different light. He sensed from the moment they made out in the lift how different it was from his past trysts with other women. Tonight he wanted to give more than take. Tonight her want had become part of his want. Tonight, for the first time in his life, he felt how it was to make love to someone he cared about and there was satisfaction in it that he never experienced before. There was fullness to his satiety that stood over and above the hollow fulfillment of his past temporal relationships.
That night, she filled more than a physical need, something that he did not think he was looking for. And now that he had felt it, he wanted more than one night. One night wasn't going to be nearly enough.
Harry looked up. The euphoria went away as he saw that the reflection on the dresser mirror was not his. What had he done? Blinded with single-mindedness to a misdirected purpose, he had failed to see that this was a possibility. What was he going to do?
He pulled her closer and embraced her, not wanting to let go. She stirred and maybe, instinctively thinking he was Ron, embraced back. She looked up at him with her still sleepy brown eyes and smiled. He smiled back despite the twinge of pain in his chest. This was stolen time and he was missing it already.
"You're not normal," she said to him softly.
"What do you mean?"
"You should be asleep, have your back turned away from me and be snoring by now."
He chuckled, "Sleep is overrated. I don't want to waste this moment on it."
"I bet you won't be as glib in the morning," she thought it was all talk, "Don't you have work? Like washing the observation windows on north side of the CN Tower?"
"Still waiting for a second verse, are you?"
She grinned, "Maybe, but also concerned that you might fall and have an untimely death. I don't want you on my conscience."
"Is that right?" he moved over her and kissed her sweetly; she kissed him back, stirring a yearning once again. "I wouldn't mind falling off the tall, stiff CN tower if I go through the slit of a slightly retracted roof into the soft and warm confines of the Skydome."
"You have a most foul mind!" and they laughed.
They gave each other slower, pleasant kisses as he said in between, "Me? That would be the guy who saw it fit to build a phallic symbol and a baseball stadium with a retractable roof right beside each other."
He didn't want the night to end. His kisses became more wanting, more seeking, more desperate. He left her mouth and with her permission muzzled her chin, her throat, her collarbone, finally setting on the almost faded inch long jagged scar near the center of her chest.
"Tell me about this," Harry requested, wondering if it was the souvenir she got from a Death Eater during their Ministry of Magic visit in their 5th year at Hogwarts; he never knew it existed until Ron mentioned it a few months back.
She confirmed it somewhat, "It's a reminder of necessary foolish bravery, fierce loyalty and standing up for what's right."
He moved on to a curious body imprint just above her left hip, "And this? What does this remind you of?"
She replied sheepishly, "Foolish trust and never to get mightily drunk with a girl friend ever again."
A tattoo of a golden Snitch. He wondered how Ron felt about that. He touched a reddish area just at her left rib cage and she flinched, "And this?"
She didn't seem concerned, admitting and teasing, "That? For foolishly not holding on tight."
"Did that happen when we…"
She finished it for him, nodding, "Slipped rounding third a few innings back."
"Are you okay?" he asked concerned he had injured her, well, physically. There was a stretch when he had been a bit rough.
"I'll live and with a visual reminder of that special memory for a few days," Hermione merely laughed, probably at his seriousness, and with mischief in her eyes matching his slow kisses and caresses.
A few days, he thought as he let her lead and reacted to what she wanted to do. She was getting married in a few days. Or was she? Since leaving the restaurant he had tried to get her to talk about Ron. About what this would mean to him and about how she felt about him. He wanted to get there but had allowed Hermione to steer the conversation away and he lost control in the lift.
He tried once more, just as they got into the room and into her bed last night. It might have been helpful to her if they weren't making out and had more clothes on while they talked.
"Your fiancé…"
"Uh-huh?"
"What's his name?"
"I can't, not right now…"
"You're marrying him…you love him."
"Later…we'll talk about him later, I promise."
She did not want to talk about him, not that he could blame her for not wanting to at that particular time. She was naked, touching and being touched by someone else.
"He's going to get hurt…"
"Not if he doesn't find out."
"He might, and he will if he does."
"Unfortunate, but I can live with it."
She really didn't sound convinced that she could. He couldn't stop and he was trying to persuade her to stop for them. But by that time, it was really too late to talk about Ron.
"You'll feel bad in the morning."
"I know I will and I'll deal with it then."
"I just want to understand. How can you love him and do this?"
"I can't. I can only do this because I don't, at least not that way anymore."
As if that was all he was waiting to hear, he let go of his own guilt about betraying Ron's trust. Not a moment too soon, he was immersed deep in her pulsating warmth, relieving himself of the unimaginable burden he had been carrying around for months.
The fact that he allowed Hermione all night to skip around talking about her fiancé was not lost on him. The truth was undeniable; as much as he wanted them to have a discussion about Ron he wanted this to happen and did not really want to talk himself or Hermione out of it. As horrible as that made him, all he needed to hear from her was a sign to make the act not as terrible, and when she let go of those words, he heard what he wanted to hear.
He was not delusional. Hearing her say it made him feel better in a way but it did not make what they were doing right. No reason, no excuse could ever justify his betrayal of Ron and his betrayal of her. He was a horrible person. Sin, guilt, remorse, but planning and hoping for no consequence. Horrible…
Ron was not only his best friend, he was family. He had done him no wrong. He embraced him into the Weasley fold, stood by him risking life and limb in his fight against Voldemort and saved him from himself after his honeymoon with professional Quidditch. And this was what he was doing to repay all that. This was what he was continuing to do. He could not stop touching her and kissing her.
How could he be a friend to them and do this?
Train wreck damage control was in effect. Ron would not be a problem. This was Ron. He would not know unless someone told him.
He looked upon Hermione with concern. He doubted that he could hide this from her forever and a huge consequence was most likely going to happen in their lifetime. How did he ever think he could do this and walk away with everyone unscathed? He could only hope that she would be forgiving.
Harry momentarily stopped making out with her. Maybe it was better to come clean and tell her right now. He quickly dropped the thought. Not now. He could not bring himself to ruin this moment. It was too late. What was done was done and if things blew up at least he would have this. Maybe he could tell her when they were back in London. Maybe.
"What's wrong?" she sensed his hesitation and asked.
What was wrong? There were so many; so many to pick from. At their conversation from a couple of days ago, she did say something about breaking off the engagement if Ron did something like this.
Her declaration was tormenting him no end.
"How can you love him and do this?"
"I can't. I can only do this because I don't, at least not that way anymore."
He had to ask her.
"What you said about your fiancé, was that the truth?"
"I guess we're back to him again," she replied, "You don't know him. Why are you so concerned?"
"I'm just curious. I find human behaviour fascinating," he hoped she would buy that and noticed she still was trying to avoid talking about Ron, "Why are you marrying him if you don't love him anymore?"
She answered freely, without holding back, "That's a good question. I just realized tonight why I've been having cold feet and I haven't figured that one out yet. Have you ever been married?"
He shook his head.
"Here's a question. Would you ever marry someone you didn't love?"
"Of course not," he declared truthfully.
"My, such lofty ideals," she teased him.
"Why? Would you?"
"Possibly."
"Yeah, right," he taunted her back, "Miss I've-never-been-with-another-man-ever. I find that very hard to believe."
"What!" she said indignantly, in jest, protesting being typecast, "You don't really know me that well."
Apparently not.
She continued, "People marry for reasons other than love all the time. Money, social status, lust, coercion, kids, temporary insanity, I can go on all night…"
"Fine. Tell me then, if you were going to, why else would you marry your fiancé if you don't love him anymore?"
"Are you always this annoyingly inquisitive?" she meant it in a nice way.
"Only when I'm talking with someone obsessively evasive," he retorted.
"It's just not fair."
"What's not fair?"
"You want me to bare all, figuratively speaking, when all I know about you, which may or may not be true, is contained in one stanza of a poem," she had this grin and he could tell that she was pulling his leg again.
"Will you answer the question for another of my verses?"
"That depends on how good the verse is though I'll definitely be more compliant if you attempt one."
Laughing, he moved over on top, taking care to keep most of his weight off her and gave in. He really wanted to know why she would go ahead and marry Ron. Holding her brown eyes captive, Harry thought for a bit about what to say and confessed.
"A Plea to End Unrest by Roy Hunt."
Of luck, of destiny, or maybe desperation,
Tonight I took and stole one fateful night of passion.
And as you lie beneath me willing and undressed,
I'm asking you one question I hope you will address
For unless you do, my heart and my soul will not rest.
She looked back at him, smiling but puzzled about something. Harry could only hope his admission was not so obvious to her
"Well?" he waited for her verdict, quite pleased with what he came up on the spot. He never knew he could do that. "Am I worthy?"
"Your heart and your soul will not rest?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Unless I tell you why I would marry someone I didn't love anymore?"
"Yes."
"A bit melodramatic, wouldn't you think?"
If he was a stranger, yes, it would be.
"I'm very curious," he answered and hoped she wouldn't ask why it was desperation.
"Nosy to the point of unrest."
"You know I nailed it."
She chortled at his cockiness. He was confident as he waited for the answer which he knew would definitely come. The possibilities of redemption were quite more substantial if she decided not to marry Ron. He had a conflict of interest and would try his best not let him affect her decision. Try.
Still basking under the effects of one of the most personal and most meaningful poems she had heard naked, and she had heard a few, Hermione lay feeling warm and fuzzy under him and his piercing gaze. She wondered how he could do that. Create something like that.
The poetry itself was music to her ears but she was more impressed by how he was coming up with verses that touched her in a very private way. Once again, he spoke as she imagined Harry would have and it did not help that as he laid on top of her the light in room brought out the green in his eyes even more.
Earlier, after some well deserved respite, she regained consciousness and with it awareness of him watching her slumber. Hermione tried to ignore him and pretended to be asleep. In as much as she enjoyed his company she had to pull herself back a bit and regroup. He was a one-timer. Pillow talk was not really necessary. For her it was downright dangerous to engage in something that would make her more emotionally invested in him than she already was.
But she couldn't go back to sleep and as he finally touched and embraced her it was almost instinctive to embrace back. Roy was one of only two people she had been this intimate with. It was very hard and quite impossible to remain totally unattached.
Roy was really not as she expected her last fling would be like. The sex was great and it had been so long since she had great sex it was good to be reminded that it could be this wonderful. But there was more to him than just that.
It seemed like he cared more about her, about her life and about what she was doing with him. He seemed very concerned about how Ron would feel and he didn't even know the guy. She had to distract Roy from pursuing a discussion about Ron most times that he tried to bring him up. She had hoped he would take a hint that, unlike him, she couldn't think about Ron, not at that time. It was confusing what he was doing. Telling her all these things that should make her stop yet doing all else to make her want more.
"He's going to get hurt…"
He was right but why did he care?
"Not if he doesn't find out."
She had no intention of telling Ron. As much as she did not want him hurt she had to do this for herself and would risk it. This was all about her, a purely selfish act, committed with the knowledge of how wrong it was. She was not disillusioned to think any reason could make it right. And the possibility of him knowing was close to zero. They were talking about Ron here. He wouldn't know unless somebody told him.
"He might, and he will if he does."
"Unfortunate, but I can live with it."
Roy would have probably made more sense if his hands did not continue to touch her in her most sensitive areas. She really could say just about anything he wanted to hear then.
Hermione thought about this as she decided about Roy in the ladies room last night. Ron would be hurt by her act of infidelity, not speak to her, maybe even call her names. She could lose him completely, make the decision she had yet to make and not marry her, as she gambled all that they had, the good and not so good, over one night of self-centeredness. There were consequences for doing something wrong and for getting caught doing it. And she would deserve it, a fitting penance for wanting this, for wanting to be with someone else.
"You'll feel bad in the morning."
She was deliberately and knowingly doing something that she knew could damage the man she was about to marry, a man she cared about. By her standards she was a terrible human being and feeling bad would be an understatement. How did he know this for a fact?
"I know I will and I'll deal with it then."
She was supposed to be taking a break. She was supposed to not think about her real life tonight. Not about what to do if Ron found out, what to do about the disgust she would feel towards herself after, what to do about her fast approaching marriage.
"I just want to understand. How can you love him and do this?"
"I can't. I can only do this because I don't, at least not that way anymore."
This stranger asked and she told him the truth sensing that was what he needed to hear. Maybe she was just thinking about it too much. She really did not have enough experience with affairs to really know if Roy's actions tonight were normal or not and maybe if they weren't, Roy was just above average, atypical, and she was just 'lucky' that she ended up with him as her last fling.
Her last fling. She still spoke as if she was going to go through with the wedding. And with Roy waiting for an answer she might as well think about one probing question she was trying to avoid tonight.
Why would she marry Ron knowing that she did not love him that way anymore?
Her break from her real life was over.
"Fine," she finally said to Roy, feeling a bit claustrophobic she nudged him over to one side, "Possible reasons why I would want to marry my fiancé, in no particular order."
"I just spent six months planning and preparing for a wedding, I must go through with it. The caterer, the reception hall, the flowers, have all been paid in full, all non refundable."
It was a joke and he laughed.
She continued, "All those presents and pissed off guests who already bought one."
"Of course, you should really take them into consideration."
"We invited five hundred people. They could incite a riot," she really thought it could happen.
"That's definitely the last thing you would want to happen when you call off a wedding," he was laughing with her.
"The convenience of having someone to get into bed with when the need arises."
"I agree, sex is important. Seriously, anytime soon."
"I don't want to hurt his feelings."
"As opposed to living a lie and hurting yours."
"I want him to always be a part of my life."
"He'll get over it and won't stay mad at you forever."
"I owe him for not saying 'no' the first time he asked almost ten years ago."
"You weren't stringing him along for a ride. You shouldn't feel guilty about that."
She stopped, realizing what he was doing.
"Why do I feel you don't want me to marry him?" she inquired.
"I'm just helping you sort your reasons out," he explained, "If you want your marriage to work, you better come up with something better than that."
It was a challenge, a good one. If Roy could dismiss her reasons for wanting to stay with Ron and go on with the wedding, they would not have a chance.
"I want to be with someone who loves me, someone who I care about, to make a difference in his life and to make me feel that my existence matters. He loves me, I care about him a lot and with time I want to learn to love him again," she said more seriously, awaiting Roy's rebuttal.
"And you think this is possible, learning to love him again."
"He's a good man. I think we just grew apart after years of not spending enough time with each other. If I spend less time at work and more time with him, share his interests, be a wife, it's definitely possible."
"That seems like a lot to give up," he observed.
"We reap what we sow and we can't have it all."
"I agree," and with that Roy seemed to have finally dropped his inquisition.
With an initial tentativeness she was seeing for the first time, he touched her lips with his and gave her a deep, rich, melancholic kiss, seemingly knowing what she felt as she heard herself admit that she couldn't have it all. She might as well stay with Ron if she couldn't be with Harry. Her existence mattered to Ron and it did not really matter to him.
She kissed Roy back with Harry in mind, feeding it with the throbbing pain in her chest.
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8 February 2007 - Hermione's flat in London
Hermione woke up panting, out of breath and feeling unusually warm. After a year she was still having them; dreams, nightmares of real events about Roy Hunt, ones she tried to not think about when awake. The one she just had was one of the more pleasant ones to have but gave her one of the worst feelings after.
She glanced over to her nightstand where a cup full of Dreamless Draught remained untouched, deciding last night that it was about time to test if she was still having them. She had her answer.
I can live with it if he does.
He did find out and this was how she was living with it.
I know I will and I'll deal with it then.
Feeling bad was definitely an understatement. This was how she was dealing with it; self-medicating with personally concocted potions so she wouldn't be reminded constantly; so she wouldn't hate herself too much. She thought about consequences that night and she never thought it could be this.
She let the tears out as she thought about Ron and about Harry. The overwhelming grief and regret always came with the memories. The old adage about it being pointless crying over spilled milk was so true but doing something pointless was all she could do. There was no fixing it. There was only living with the mistake of one night.
It was fitting penance for the consequence of sin.
After a long while, she got up and went into the shower, her internal clock telling her it was around six in the morning. Hermione had her day planned. If all things went as scheduled she would be in Toronto by noon London time and leave within twenty four, maybe thirty six hours.
She could not imagine this assignment taking longer than that. After all, there was only one question and the answer was a 'yes' or a 'no'. Five minutes would be plenty.
Of course, she knew that Harry would want to talk about last year. She wasn't ready to do that but realized she would never be ready. Ginny was right; it had to be done at some point. He needed closure so he could move on and her giving him that would allow her to do the same.
Hermione loved Harry but even if what he professed to her was true, there could never be a life with him, not after what happened. There was no going back to the way they were before, either. The Harry she knew was a reasonable man. He would understand why this had to be.
They would have to live with it. It was the end result of their misdeed, punishment for doing something they both knew was wrong, and a harsh but apt consequence of sin.
Sin, consequence, remorse and, hopefully, eventually, forgiveness.
She got out of the shower and in her bathrobe mulled over what to pack. Toronto, February, Harry. Mindlessly, she filled her bag with the usual necessities, toiletries, some knickers, a few pairs of pants, a fluffy shapeless sweater and a couple of turtlenecks.
That quickly out of the way, she got ready for work thinking there was plenty of time to make it to Mexico. And if this thing with Harry took longer, she'd have to come back after her trip.
Mexico. Draco needed an answer and her initial impulse on the phone last night was to say 'yes' until she saw Ginny's almost physiologically impossible neck dislocating 'no'.
Being with him made her feel better about herself and that was a feat considering how she felt about what she did to Ron. The 'why' behind it was still beyond her but she had a few interesting theories. It definitely didn't start out that way at their first meeting for Magorian's trial.
The good feeling started around the time she gave him a second chance and began treating him like she would any other human being. All those horrible years at Hogwarts should have made that an impossibility. She could understand how Ginny and the rest of the Order felt about him but they would not understand why she was doing it. They would not understand why she was giving him the benefit of the doubt.
They would never understand until they did something unforgivable, felt remorse for it and lived everyday struggling trying to live with yourself and the fact that there was absolutely nothing that you could do to undo what you had done.
What she did to Ron was unforgivable. Guilt and remorse hounded her every time she thought of him and of Harry. She wished she could talk to Ron and at least express just how sorry she was for what happened. How she wished Ron could convince her that what she did wasn't really unforgivable, but just very, very, very hard to forgive.
It was too late to ask for forgiveness from Ron as it was too late for Draco to ask for absolution from Professor Dumbledore for his intent. Never in her life did she think she would have something in common with Draco Malfoy. But just maybe, since she had forgiven Draco to the point of seeing him and believing him to be a reformed human being, there was hope that she could somehow forgive herself.
Making a difference in how Draco felt about himself, as he admitted last night, was also feeding the inability to say 'no' to him. Hermione remembered why she chose to be a Healer. She felt it was the best way for her to have an effect in other people's lives, for her existence to matter. It was in her to want that, and with Draco, as with Ron, she could see herself doing that on a more personal basis.
No, she did not love Draco, not like she once loved Ron and definitely not as she loved Harry, though knowing what he was going through she did care more about him than she could ever imagine possible. She had to find out what this was, if there was really going to be more to it, something deeper and longer lasting.
Sin, consequence, remorse, forgiveness and a second chance to do right. For both of them.
And Ginny was perceptive in assessing that it was a steep hill. There was something within her that was driving a need to know sooner. The timing of her trip to Mexico seemed to make perfect sense.
She stepped out of her flat into her backyard and with her briefcase and travel bag Disapparated to the staff designated area at St. Mungo's. At seven it was still relatively quiet as she made it through the hall and into her office, quite surprised to see someone already there.
"Good morning," she startled him somewhat. Dennis was unpacking unused phials. "How was the date?"
"So-so," he replied, "You're here early for someone who's on vacation."
"I have urgent business in Toronto and I wanted to get some stuff done before I leave," she answered.
"When are you leaving?"
"I'm hoping by noon," she guessed his next question, "And no, I'm not staying for the conference. Is there anything you need before I go?"
"Just your signature to order more phials."
"Drop it off on my desk and I'll make sure to sign it before I leave," she knew about the problems they were having with breakage trying to bottle one of the more highly unstable potions they developed recently. "When I get back from Mexico we should really have a look at that modified Wolfsbane potion. Surely, we should be able to bottle it without making the phial unbreakable."
"Sounds good," Dennis answered, "I brought in breakfast if you want some."
Hermione thanked him and went into her office. She sat at her desk thinking more about the Toronto trip and about what to say to Harry. Remembering Roy Hunt and how he turned out to be someone else, it seemed only wise to have learned a lesson from that.
A sense of disquiet suddenly washed over her at the possibility of Draco turning out to be just as Ginny suspected. In a decisiveness she had not had since Ron died, she ignored the clamors of decency screaming from within her, disregarded the list of consequences that were going through her mind, took out Draco's medical file from her briefcase and used her passcode to magically expand it to its original Michigan hospital version.
It took her over an hour to read it in its entirety and she did while slowly sipping a glass of Dennis' apple and peach smoothie.