Dude. I suck. No, seriously. How long ago has it been since I have updated? I didn't have any idea how long it had actually been. This is getting a bit ridiculous. You'll all have to go and read the entire story again, I expect. Sorrrryyy ^^ I wish I could tell you an excuse, I could harp on about finishing school and starting uni and blah blah but really, it just hasn't been on my mind for quite a while. Though, do not fear, the end is in sight, Hermione and Harry will have their ending. How I love them so, <3
RAINY DAYS WILL BE FINISHED.
To satisfy you all at least for a little while, here is a ridiculous chapter that is close to 6000 words long. Again, crazy. It really should have been broken up into two but I really didn't have the heart, so its just a really really long one xD
ENOUGH OF ME TALKING. Thank you to all the reviews I have received, know that I read each and every one, and that they truly make all the difference. If you like, please write. Enjoy.
ATTENTION:
I AM IN (DESPARATE) NEED OF A BETA READER FOR MY NEXT CHAPTER. THIS IS JUST A ONE TIME JOB, HOWEVER THIS PERSON NEEDS TO BE QUICK, TRUSTWORTHY AND PROFFICIENT WITH GRAMMAR AND STORY PROGRESSION. ADDITIONALLY, COMFORTABLE WITH R/NC-17 CONTENT, AND THEREFORE OVER 18. IF YOU FEEL AS IF YOU COULD ASSIST ME IN PRODUCING MY NEXT CHAPTER OF RAINY DAYS, PLEASE EMAIL ME AT naturallygifted_abbey@hotmail.com WITH YOUR STRENGTHS, WEAKNESSES ETC.
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He was going to tell her today. Tonight. Before the night was over, she would know.
Fuck.
What the hell was he thinking? There had to be a better way to do this.
No. It had to be tonight. He had wasted enough time dancing circles around his affections and the possibilities that lay ahead if Hermione happened to return them, he couldn't put it off any longer.
Harry crossed out a few words for the umpteenth time that morning and rewrote them, frustrated. As simple as he tried to make his feelings, they sure weren't fond of repeating themselves on paper. He needed it to be perfect.
…What would she say?
For one panic stricken minute Harry realized that he hadn't even given a thought to what she might say or do after he'd told her. He had a terrifying image of her throwing various items at his face and storming from the room in disgust. Good lord. What does a normal person do if their best friend confesses their undying love?
Oh god. There was no way he could do this. Switzerland was looking pretty good right now.
He got up from the kitchen table and threw the quill down so it clattered noisily. Kicking over the waste paper bin by accident, he cursed under his breath. Today was not a good day, the weatherman predicted rain. Figures.
With much pacing and wearing of the carpet, half an hour later Harry was at the point of mild hysteria, a state of which he was not accustomed to, and was now considering starting up some sort of elaborate hobby, like knitting. Whilst circling the couch he came to the firm decision not to panic. There was no use worrying about Hermione just yet, she wasn't even here. He had plenty of time to prepare, and when she did walk through the door he could just march right up to her and-
`Oh my lord, Diagon alley is packed. I could barely squeeze in and Ginny is far taller than me so I still don't know how she- Harry, what on earth are you doing?'
Halfway around the coffee table at this point, Harry stood there, frozen to the spot as he stared at her somewhat frightening image. Truth be told, she looked rather bewildered, but he was still slightly hysterical.
`Hermione! Right! Didn't expect to- that is, back already?'
He hurried over to her and hastily snatched her bags from her fingers, as she comprehended his disjointed sentences. She stumbled in, gazing after him and placed a hand on her forehead as if all his movement was giving her a mild headache. After a second of steadying herself, she rekindled the conversation.
`Uh, yes. I somehow found a way to escape Ginny's clutches with a rather pathetic excuse because really, that girl is exhausting. Thankfully I managed to sneak away before she spotted anything else in a shop front window but…'
Harry watched her mouth move but heard nothing, standing there still clutching her shopping awkwardly as he nodded in what looked like pauses. Hermione either didn't realize or chose to ignore his behavior for her voice never faltered. It was only when she had pulled the curtains wide open and dazzled Harry with sunlight did he come out of deep thought. He blinked, stammered some sort of reply he couldn't for the life of him remember and hurried the conversation along. Throughout the morning's pandemonium he had come to only one conclusion. Women were very complicated.
It was no surprise to Harry that he couldn't quite recall agreeing to a midday trip to the park. But then, Hermione was very persuasive, especially when victims had no knowledge of said compromise. Before he knew it Hermione had him collapsing onto the lush grass at his feet and staring up at the surprisingly clear sky. Truthfully, he found it rather inconvenient and a tad embarrassing to notice that he spent most of the time staring at her, but he attempted to look as inconspicuous as humanly possible.
He watched her clasp her hands on her stomach and kick her shoes off, smiling to herself as they lay there in stillness. Harry tried to think of something to say, but it seemed easier to remain quiet. In truth, he knew precisely what could fill the space but his mouth just couldn't form the words, and he sighed.
Hermione turned her head to look at him and smiled, misinterpreting his exclamation for one of contentment. The sun shone brightly and Harry watched her glow slowly under it's light.
`This is heaven.' She said softly, and he tore his eyes away from hers to gaze back above him, thinking he would give anything to freeze frame right then and there.
`A nice change from the rain, don't you think?'
Oh. Harry's heart sunk a little She had been talking about the weather. Go figure. He let out a defeated mumble of half hearted agreement.
There was a pause in which Hermione closed her eyes and Harry snuck a peek at her face and wondered why on earth he had to go and fall in love. There were so many things that could go wrong, so many. What would he do if he had to live without her? He almost loved her enough to let her go, just so he could keep her forever. Almost.
`I'll miss this.'
Her voice broke his thoughts, and he frowned slightly. `It's not going anywhere, and neither are we.'
Hermione didn't look at him. `The rain will return, it always does. Nothing lasts forever. Who knows when we will see this again?' She lifted a hand to motion towards the sky, and then let it fall heavily back to her side.
This left them in further silence. Harry fidgeted with blades of grass that tickled his palm and quietly began to hope he never saw another storm cloud again. His mind travelled to the departure of Ron, and Harry wondered where he was at that very moment. The lack of any substantial emotion from his best friend had left Harry both anxious and confused. Not only was it extremely out of character, it was very little to go by. He didn't know how much time he had before Ron decided to try to talk to Hermione again. Harry dreaded the day Ron came knocking and asked him to hand back his girlfriend on a silver platter. And, and even worse prospect, that Hermione would leave willingly.
He looked back at Hermione, still gazing at the sky and wondered what was to become of her, would she pretend like nothing had ever happened? No, she couldn't. It seemed impossible to look into the future and see something different that their days spent under the sun.
There was a sudden movement and Harry recoiled slightly as Hermione propped herself up on one elbow in a single quick movement.
`Harry, what if we left, right now?'
Harry, understandably was a tad stunned. He blinked, then gave a small stammer. `W-What?'
`Left.' She repeated. `Disappeared without a trace.' There was a strange sort of eagerness in her eyes. `We could run away, to somewhere sunny, and warm and peaceful. Where nobody can find us. We could take walks on the beach every day and never wonder where all the time went. Just us, we wouldn't need anyone else. You and me.'
Harry stared at her. His voice caught painfully in his throat but all he could comprehend were the large brown eyes at level with his own. His mind filled with images of sand and sun and sea. Of late mornings and secrets and moments all of their own, it made his head hurt with longing.
A moment passed and then, Hermione laughed and threw herself back onto the grass. Harry remained upright, frozen, his mind still putting together her words.
`…`Mione?'
She turned to him, the laughter still evident on her face. Harry gave her a long piercing look before shaking his head and not saying a word. There was a small twitch on the corner of Hermione's mouth and her eyes softened for a fraction of a second so that Harry could not be sure he had really seen it before it had disappeared and she was shrugging her shoulders.
Harry was now thoroughly confused.
Hermione pulled a book out of her bag and wriggled across so she could prop her head on the side of his stomach. Harry barely noticed; he was too busy concentrating on the roughly folded piece of paper in his back pocket that may as well have been a howler, with the words it seemed to be screaming at him. It was all he could do to not reinvent the million and one excuses as to why he shouldn't say anything. How do you summon up love in a sentence?
Time passed slowly as the lay there but Harry didn't notice, there were too many things to consider. It hurt to think about Hermione, so he wandered back to his years in the cupboard under the stairs. There were times when he would wake in the night with sweat on his brow and a racing heart, always because of the same thing. He dreamed he had nothing, that there was no worth in his existence, no reason that warranted his importance. He was nothing because he had nothing. He surveyed grudgingly the world that had always thought him to be `the chosen one', the one worth more than all their souls combined. And now, he looked back at his young life to see the lives of his parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, come and go just as fleetingly it was no wonder he clung to Hermione so ferociously. She was his something.
Witches and wizards would look upon his figure in either admiration or pity, but both for the same reason. He had loved and lost in such a quantity that he could never wish it upon another. For all he knew, to love was to lose, and he could not lose Hermione. He would rather not to have loved at all. Guess it was too late for that now.
Harry's hands reached over and gently clasped Hermione's book shit, mustering all the courage he could find. He spoke clearly but quietly.
`Hermione.'
She rolled over and looked up at him quizzically, with no recognition in her features, but worry upon her face. He faltered under her gaze, the unexpectedness caught him off guard and it took him a moment to remember what he wanted to say.
`I've never-I mean, sometimes I wonder if-do you think you…'
Harry mentally kicked himself. Had Ron been there he would have snickered in the background. This was definitely not in the script.
He wanted to tell her, oh how badly he wanted her to know. How easy it seemed to just lean in and whisper the well-chosen words in his back pocket. He wanted to tell her just what she did to him, show how long he had sat in the silence and wondered if she felt it too. And there she was, right in front of his eyes, waiting.
But he couldn't do it.
She was his something, and Harry would never forgive himself if he let her go.
The moment dragged but his stuttering had reduced itself to quietness until at last he stopped trying. He sighed deeply, disappointment evident clearly as it lined his features. Looking back up at Hermione's face for the last time her let out a small, defeated `…never mind.'
Hermione frowned and wrinkled her nose critically as she did when she knew something was not right. She tilted her head and tried to solve him but his eyes remained down. Harry felt her body rise to its feet and a hand appeared at his eye level, he took it. Her voice rang out in the familiar silence.
`We're late for coffee.'
Harry heard her words from a long way away, but took her outstretched hand anyway, knowing he could never refuse her.
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Harry felt like a complete idiot. He had been sullen at best whilst they consumed their drinks and had dragged his feet along the pavement like a sulking child on the way home. He was livid at himself for being so indecisive, embarrassed that Hermione had watched every second of him being a dolt and unmotivated to come up with another elaborate scheme for his emotional unveiling. He wasn't Ron, scheming and deviating were not things he preferred to spend his evenings doing. He was tired and he was lonely and he didn't want to be doing this anymore.
Harry Potter had had enough.
To say that he was grumpy for the remainder of the afternoon would be an understatement. It was unfortunate that Hermione had to bear the brunt of such an attack because she had absolutely no idea what on earth had gotten into him. It got so bad at one point that she actually had to leave the house just to be rid of the face that was scowling for no apparent reason. She left him on the couch with his arms folded tightly over his chest and a hand flicking channels every few seconds. With a grunt in replace of a goodbye he looked briefly in her direction as she closed the door behind her and felt a slight twinge of guilt. It wasn't her fault. In fact, it was most definitely not her fault; it was his, which made it twice as bad. Blaming someone else was far easier. He hadn't even asked her where she was going.
After sufficiently exhausting the remote and proving the lack of anything interesting on the television, Harry got out of his chair and wandered upstairs to take a shower. At this point in time the thought of hot water was extremely appealing, and he welcomed the steaming flow across his shoulders, if only for a little while. It was here that he lost all sense of time and space, of who he was or what he wanted, and for that he was grateful. Feelings hurt, he was glad to escape them.
When he left the bathroom, the sky beyond his window was dark. He heard he dull echoes of insects below and opened the window to let the snowy owl flutter down onto his bed. Hedwig peered at his brooding expression and almost rolled her large eyes in exasperation. He took what turned out to be the month's Quibbler from her talons and pointed his wand at the bedside table to conjure up a few owl treats, which banished her scathing look immediately.
With his companion otherwise occupied, Harry unrolled the magazine and scanned the cover before flicking through its pages in an attempt to find any of Luna's articles that might cheer him up. His eyes fell past the paragraphs on spattergroit and the latest Ministry conspiracies to a small segment at the back. They reminded him of the horoscopes in muggle women's magazines, and he smirked at the memory of Ron reading his fortune from an old snippet Mr Weasley had found. After thoroughly taking it to heart, Ron had skipped every crack in the pavement for a whole month so that he would be lucky in money. It had ended fairly badly, what with Harry barely being able to walk with a hopping lunatic down the street or listen to the reasons why the hamburger bar on the corner was a great investment.
This one was different, however. It fell open on a double page and had crisscrossing lines of `Yes' and `No' questions and other such variations so tightly squeezed in together that Harry could hardly read the writing. Eventually he found what appeared to be the beginning and read the first question.
Question One - If given the choice, would you rather die by means of: (a) Shark Attack or (b) Medieval torture?
The questions, to Harry's disbelief, got more and more ridiculous as the survey went on. He was asked everything from what kind of sausage he preferred to how he would cover up his neighbor's murder. He was just about to give up and throw the magazine and all it's insanity into the bin when he came to the last question.
Question One hundred and thirteen - If you could go back and change the way your life unraveled, would you?
Harry paused for the first time and let his fingers just skim the corners of the page, not knowing quite what to say. In truth, he had never thought about it before. The harsh realities of the past permanently stung him and even now it hurt to think of what and who he had left behind. The lives of all who had sacrificed themselves for him, the horrors he had seen and constantly tried to forget. He was sourly tempted to give a definite `Yes' and be done with it, but something held him back. There was a small nagging in the back of his mind that he couldn't quite shake, and the familiar brown eyes that haunted him around the clock sprung back into life in the foreground of his head. Hermione.
He would never change the way they had been, the way they were. Ever. Not for a million happy moments spent being someone else, not for all the money in England. Every second he was with her made his heart leap out of his chest, and that feeling was worth all the unhappiness in the world, if it meant that she was in it. His eyes followed the path that held the word `No.'
Harry came to a conclusive end and glanced down the list of horoscopes until he found the one his path had taken. The words were short and inconspicuous, so he expected nothing of consequence.
The fear you hold, though justified, is useless. Perhaps you should be spending more time doing and less time fearing, for the more time it takes the less time you have. Be wise in your timing, for a step in one direction is a step away from another. Nothing lasts forever.
With a brief ripping sound the page was torn from its place and crumpled tightly in Harry's hands. He threw it down somewhere over his shoulder and didn't look at it again. Had someone been there he would have joked that Luna had finally cracked, but Harry knew that what it was telling him shouldn't be (but sounded very much like) the truth.
Harry had never liked the truth. The truth was messy.
The rest of the night passed incredibly slowly, and Harry fidgeted around the house with absolutely nothing to do but sulk and pull things out of the fridge. It was only then that he wondered how on earth he entertained himself before Hermione had come to stay; it seemed unbelievable that it had only been a few short weeks.
Speaking of his best friend, Harry glanced briefly at his watch and wished he had paid more attention to Hermione when she had walked out the door all those hours ago. It irked him that he liked to know where she was, just so he could reassure himself.
Another moment passed in which Harry fiddled with his fingers before he came to an impulsive decision and reached for the phone, Hermione's number already in his head. In no time at all he had the receiver to his ear and was waiting to hear the dial tone when a sudden shrill noise echoed out from the kitchen. Harry turned and peered into the room, only to find a buzzing response to his own call. He picked the vibrating object up in his hand, seeing his own name flashing on the screen and sighed. He would just have to wait.
The fridge was wiped clean of all its edible contents and the fire whisky was being cracked open before Harry had even really registered it was happening. In an act of complete self-pity he heaved the box of board games out of their place under the stairs and wrenched them open in an attempt to find something to entertain himself. This soon appeared to be a very bad idea as everything was made for two or more players, only reminding him of his solitary status and the fact that Hermione was not there to compete with. Not good. The fire whisky was given more attention as the lack of anything else to keep him occupied became apparent.
Hours and hours passed as Harry fought the urge not to look at his watch. Hedwig hooted from somewhere upstairs and he finally scowled and gave in to the temptation of checking the time. 11.43pm. Where was she?
It was then that the door swung open and Harry leaped to his feet, bottle still in hand and raced to the door in the most eloquent manner he could manage under the circumstances. To his relief, it was, of course, Hermione and he greeted her with such enthusiasm that she took a momentary step back.
`Hermione!'
She took in his disheveled stature and the fire whisky in his hand and gave a suspicious glare. He shrugged sheepishly and quickly dropped the bottle down on a nearby table.
`Where have you been? You could have at least told me you were-
`I doubt you would have listened had I told you where I was going, Harry.' Hermione replied, slightly sharper than he was used to hearing and he recoiled gently. She softened her expression. `Sorry. I just-never mind. What have you been up to while I was out? Not too many of those, I hope' she grasped the whisky and let it fall into the bin.
`Nah, not really.' Harry mumbled, hoping she wouldn't look into the fridge anytime soon, but it seemed he was in luck and that her mind was otherwise occupied. She immediately headed for the couch, wrapping her long curls around to fall over a single shoulder and reaching down to take off her shoes. Harry followed her eagerly and sat down, awaiting a conversation. Apparently his insistent staring got to Hermione because she tilted her head upward towards him and frowned, irritated. `What?' she demanded, halfway through untying a shoelace.
Again, it was harsher than the situation called for, and Harry must have worn a slightly hurt expression because she didn't say anything else for a short while. The two sat in an awkward pause until Hermione got up and disappeared into he kitchen. Harry watched her go, intensely confused. He probably should have let it be for a couple of minutes but Harry couldn't help it, and in any case, it was Hermione. He strode in to find her leaning over the kitchen bench, a serious expression on her usually calm features. His voice sounded loud in the silence.
`What's up?'
She looked up as if only just noticing he was there but brushed him off with a wave of her hand. `Nothing, Harry. I'm just tired.'
Harry didn't buy it. In a few short strides he was in front of her and had grabbed her arms gently to stop her casting him aside for a third time. `Hey,' he hushed. `What is it? Tell me.'
She didn't reply.
`Hermione.' He dipped his head to try and catch her eyes and eventually succeeded, for once they made contact she couldn't seem to look away. She sighed, and for a moment Harry's heart began to pound. Something was wrong. Really wrong.
Hermione looked up at him with a gaze that felt like she didn't quite know what to tell him, but her mouth opened and words fell out, regardless.
`I saw Ron.'
A million and one emotions flashed though Harry's head like a lightning bolt and he gripped her arms more tightly, as if he never wanted to let go. She must have noticed because she pried him off her and took a few steps away. Harry seemed to have lost the ability to speak so she continued without him, a strange quiver in her voice.
`He…he was okay. Calm, even. Like I've never seen him. He sat me down and we talked for ages, I can't even remember what about. He told me about why he hadn't called, that he didn't want to push me…that he missed me.'
Harry couldn't think, he couldn't breathe. He couldn't do anything but stand there listening to her throw the fragmented sentences out for his ears to hear and comprehend in muddled formations. It was like it was all happening in slow motion yet way, way too fast.
`He seemed so…collected, you know? I don't know what has happened to him during all this time, but it was like waking up back when we were young and in love and had nothing to worry about but each other and…god I don't know. Like we used to be. And…and I miss that, Harry. So much. We were so good, back then. Everyone thought so, even you.'
That was before I fell in love with you.
`…And, well, he thought we could see if we could make it right this time, for good. Start back up the way we were before all of the fighting, before all of the mess.'
Speaking for the first time since she began, Harry choked out an attempt at a sentence. `…And what did you say?'
She wasn't looking at him anymore; she was fiddling with the front pocket of her jeans, her eye downcast and shaded from his gaze. `I…said yes.'
There was complete and utter silence.
`No.'
Hermione flicked her head upwards and stared at Harry, who was no longer afraid to look her in the eyes. Something had snapped, and if it were able Harry could have sworn his heart had just cracked in two. He looked at her with an intensity that made her more nervous than she could ever remember being, but there was no thought going through his head anymore. He had seen enough. Now, he was going to be heard.
`No, Hermione.'
She continued to stare, not knowing what to say. `Harry, listen-
`No, you listen. This isn't like before, we aren't at Hogwarts anymore and you both aren't the same people who started all of this in the first place. You're too different now, Hermione. Stop fighting it and accept that this just isn't going to work.'
Hermione lifted her chin as her arms crossed over each other slowly, a strange look in her eyes. `I think I have a better idea of my relationship with Ron than you, Harry. I-
Harry gave a dark, curt laugh. `That's just it Hermione, you don't. All these years I've stood by and watched you guys tear yourselves apart over this, and for what? A few mediocre moments? You could do so much better, `Mione, you're wasting your life away on a relationship based on what used to be, not what is.'
She clenched her hands into tight fists and glared at him incredulously. `I could do better? Ron is your best friend Harry, and you're telling me I could do better?'
`You're missing the point.' Harry argued, taking a step forward again, but in her repeated fashion Hermione fell back once more.
`No, I'm exactly on the point. Its my relationship Harry, I'll do what I want.' With that, Hermione turned and brandished her wand so that objects began whizzing about the house, zooming towards her feet. Harry felt some of his anger leave him, and he faltered. `…What are you doing?'
Hermione sighed, her back still to him. `What does it look like Harry?' Her things began to shrink themselves into a travel bag as she surveyed the rest of the living room for stray books.
There was a pause and Harry listened to his own footsteps on the wooden floor to distract him from the carnage in front of his eyes. His head began to spin.
No, no, no, no.
`Hermione, you…you can't leave.'
She didn't look at him. `Why not?'
He hadn't planned a response, but knew he had to say something, anything. He crouched down to where she was peering under cushions and her eyes flickered to his for a spit second then pulled away as if she didn't want to hear what he had to say.
`Because…because I only just got you back.'
Hermione bit her lip and Harry watched as her hands wrapped around the cushion that seemed to have become her private friend after all the tearstained nights clutching it. She parted her lips to say something, then apparently thought better of it and dropped the cushion, leaving Harry hanging. He listened as her shuffled feet ascended the stairs towards her bedroom, but didn't move. He stayed there, deep in suspended thought and regret that by the time she came back down laden with shrunken objects he had barely noticed the time it had taken.
`Hermione, don't.' Harry pleaded, chasing after her after once more finding the feeling in his legs, a painful throbbing developing deep within his chest. `Don't do this.'
She still wouldn't look at him, but her eyes were glazed and hazy. `Harry, this is the right thing, trust me. I know what I'm doing.'
She began to pick up her small bags and headed for the door, but Harry raced there faster and stood between her and the exit, his hands outstretched towards her. He started to babble frantically, all his words seemed to merge together.
`Wait! What about the beach? Our beach? Where we walked all day and time didn't matter and all we had to worry about was us? Just you and me, remember? Let's go, let's go right now! I don't care; we can get up and leave. You said you wanted that. Just us.'
Hermione looked at him properly for the first time that night, blinking away tears furiously, refusing to show any overwhelming emotion for fear it would make the situation worse. `Harry I…I can't.'
`…`Mione. Please.' Harry's voice broke on the last word, and he found himself unknowingly closer to her. With a trembling motion he reached out and rested his hand on her cheek, letting his thumb fall back and forth underneath her jaw. She did nothing but fight the tears and gaze up at him with no expression. He could barely stand to look at her, he was so afraid.
`Stay with me. I need you.'
In one painfully slow, deliberate moment, Hermione pulled his hand from her face with prying fingers.
`Harry, you need to let me go.'
As if in slow motion, Hermione side stepped Harry's body and walked through the door. And Harry let her. There was a sudden crack, and the house was silent once more, with nothing but the creaking door to fill the empty space. Harry couldn't think. The pain circled him in a throbbing state of paralysis, a pincer's grip that tightened with every lonely moment passed. It was done, and she was gone. He had failed.
The door clicked softly back into place behind him but his body did not allow it to rest for much longer, he hurled his back into the wood as hard as he was able, and slid down it, wanting to feel a kind of pain that wasn't caused by brown eyes. He reached the floor and his head fell into his hands desperately, his face devoid of emotion but his eyes stinging with anguish. She was gone.
Outside, the rumble of an oncoming storm approached, its ferocity no match for man that night, though it did try. The rain would not cease at all as everybody slept, but it was only Harry who would try to ignore the heavy intruders on his roof, they fell on already drowning sorrows.
The last thing he could remember was her words echoing softly in his head, over and over.
Nothing lasts forever.
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God, can I actually NOT be angsty for once? I'm really a very chirpy, positive person in real life, I swear xD I think I just like troubled, misunderstood heroes. Rofl.
Please review if you liked what you read, and I'll try as hard as I can to get the big next chapter up and running, its sure to be a doozy.
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