It was raining when I began writing this chapter, very fitting, I think.
Thank you all for being so patient, I won't lie, I kind of put this fic aside for a bloody long time. What can I say? I have a very short attention span and I had sudden inspiration for another fic that took all my creative juices. BUT, the other day I opened this and saw how close I was to finishing it, and I couldn't just leave this the way I had, especially when I was so close to the end. Apologies for any spelling errors etc., I rushed my usually very long editing process to get this up quickly.
So here is the second last chapter, enjoy, review, and I shall see you on the other side.
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Today there's an empty space,
I find you gone without a trace.
Maybe I should have told you yesterday,
Maybe then you would have stayed.
I was going to tell you today,
I even wrote the words I could say.
I finally found the courage,
But now it's too late.
The time passed, and Harry didn't notice. Truth was, he didn't really care. He didn't care that it was still raining, didn't care that darkness had consumed the house around him, didn't care that he was still sitting with his back to the door, staring down at his shoes. He wouldn't have minded if he never had to care about anything ever again.
Hermione shielded her head pitifully with her hands, and slapped Harry on the arm when he laughed at her ridiculous running image. Realising the removal of her hands she squealed and shoved them back into place above her, the drops of water coming down hard and fast. Harry's hair stuck to his forehead and he smiled, not bothering to protect himself, his figure was already wet enough to forgive the continuous stream. He wrapped a side of his large coat around Hermione though, and she ducked under his form, rain dripping down her nose.
They scanned the almost deserted street, watching as people scattered, their umbrellas raised high. Harry spotted the small wooden sign hanging from an inconspicuous doorway a few feet in front of them and they jogged the rest of the way. Hermione heaved the door open and the little bell tinkled merrily, oblivious to the thundering weather outside. There was little movement inside the café, though a young waitress behind the counter looked up briefly to smile at their expressions, then continued to fuss over ordered coffees.
Harry unwrapped Hermione from inside his coat and shook his hair out like a dog, an act that certainly didn't impress his companion, for she blocked his spray with her hands and whined at him. He grinned at her under his fringe and she rolled her eyes, stalking away towards the back of the room, settling into a booth in the corner. Harry followed and slid down opposite her, his hands slouching on the counter as Hermione pulled her hair to one side and began wringing it out.
`I've had just about enough of this country's ridiculous obsession with rain. We could have been born somewhere warm, where it doesn't bucket down every second day, Australia, EGYPT. But no, oh no, we turned out British. Fabulous. Ugh, I have rain in my shoes.' Hermione's hair was beginning to make a puddle of water on the floor, and she glared at it as if it had personally insulted her. Harry silently pulled out his wand and banished the evidence under the table, ignoring Hermione's reprimanding.
`Harry, be careful! Put that away.'
He stuck it back in the pocket of his jeans as the waitress walked over to them and pulled out a pen. `Haven't seen you folks in here before, still coming down hard out there?'
`You could say that.' Hermione sighed, shaking out her scarf.
The waitress smiled. `I'm sure I have something that'll warm you right up.' With that she turned and wandered back down the aisle of tables, flicking the pen back behind her ear.
Harry looked about him in mild interest while in the corner of his eye Hermione was apparently emptying her shoes. The place had a comfortable type of warmth about it, its chocolate coloured walls were welcoming and a small melody of old jazz filled the silence. He supposed that because it was small, inconspicuous and out of the way of the inner streets of London, the café itself was relatively unknown. Indeed, he had never noticed it before in his life, but it was nice. It was quiet, it was muggle, and no one was staring in their direction whispering about the golden trio.
Harry's thoughts ran briefly over the third member of their friendship, Hermione's boyfriend, and smirked at the image of Ron sitting in a muggle café where the menu's did not automatically record their orders. He had bailed on their morning outing because a friend in his department had just got the newest model of firebolt. No one had to say anything further; even Hermione didn't expect him to accompany them.
Ron and Hermione were in that stage of blissful happiness, those few months where everything looked brighter and days were best spent in the arms of one another. Harry didn't mind, though it was nice to have some time with just Hermione today, there was only so much he could handle of their delirious expressions across dinner tables and secret conversations held in whispers. They were happy though, and that was enough for him.
`Well, this is nice.' Hermione stated, now with both shoes deserted under the table and her legs tucked up on cushions for warmth. She clasped her hands neatly in her lap, chin lifted, inspecting the surroundings. `Strange we never noticed this place before, isn't it?'
Harry shrugged his shoulders. `It's out of the way of the main road, I doubt we would have ever known it was here had we not been stuck in the rain.'
Hermione looked over her shoulder and peered out at the stormy sky, the long windows still getting a bashing from the heavens. Harry pulled the carefully folded newspaper that lay innocently on the table towards him and opened it up; half relieved to not see his own image sprawled across the front page. A few minutes later the waitress returned with a blazing hot chocolate for Hermione, who got one whiff of its wafting aroma and gave a low moan of appreciation. She clasped it in her hands and took a long sip with her eyes drifting closed, not noticing the waitress smirking at her discreetly as she handed Harry his own drink.
`Took you more for a coffee man.' She said, winking and scooping up the menus.
Harry sniffed the mug gingerly and found it filling his nose with warmth and cosiness. He nestled further into his squashy chair and drank his coffee mercifully, watching the girl drift away from them once more, thinking her a wonder of the world.
`So, any thoughts on the ever looming career path?' Harry asked conversationally, looking over his mug to peer at Hermione. She wore a slightly frustrated look.
`I can't believe Ron found a job so quickly, I always thought he'd be the last of us to settle down. I wish I was as certain as he is about all this, I mean, how can we possibly choose? What if we get it wrong? And of course-' She gave an unimpressed glare to the tabletop; `-how do we know if we're getting a position because of our abilities, or because of being…well, us?'
Harry scowled. He hated the fact that Ron and Hermione had been labelled war heroes and thus been thrust into the spotlight because of him. Ron didn't mind so much, but he knew Hermione despised it.
`No one in their right mind would hire you for anything else but being bloody brilliant, Hermione.'
She smiled gratefully at his words and brought her hot chocolate to her lips once again. `What about you, Harry? Heard anything from the ministry yet?'
Harry ran a hand through his hair, scratching at the back of his skull. `Well, yes and no.'
After the war had ended, Harry had been flooded with requests of automatic Auror acceptance status from the Minister of Magic himself. After a thorough clean out of his mail, he had promptly thrown them all in the fire. For years he had received special treatment and been the subject of celebrity gossip, the last thing he wanted was to be guaranteed an easy street into the Auror department. Not when there were dozens of normal applicants who had worked tirelessly for years to even get a shot at the trials. No, he wanted to do it the right way, and had sent in an application for Auror training that very same day. He was going to do it like everybody else, regardless of what others thought.
`Are you sure you want to go through all those years of training, Harry? You've had more experience than all of the recruits put together.' Hermione said, looking at him exasperatedly. He threw her a look and she closed her mouth, having already lost the argument.
`I can't base a career on self-taught luck, Hermione. The formal training is something I could never learn on my own.'
She shrugged over the table and he smiled. They didn't say any more on the subject after that, they were too young and too supremely happy to have left Hogwarts and its tall, stony walls. Harry would never suggest that he didn't look back on his former school with pride and fond memories, quite the contrary, it had been his home for as long as he felt he wanted to remember. Though, there is only so much one can take of the drama that seemed to follow him down dark hallways.
Not surprising to either Harry or Hermione, they never bothered with pauses in conversation or silent moments. It was a kind of freedom that they weren't used to but should have been. Not that they were trying to make up for lost time, not even Ron regretted the moments lost being stupid kids in the schoolyard sunshine. No one could say, though, that they had been given a chance to experience all the little pleasures of wasting the day away. It was convenient, then, that they didn't talk about the war, they didn't talk about Ron or Hogwarts or the future from then on. They talked about nothing and it was effortless. They laughed and smiled their way through the rest of the rain until it tired itself out, which was quite a feat. The previous companions they'd seen scattered in booths around them hours ago had long since left, to be replaced by a few new ones. Harry and Hermione didn't notice, nor did it matter, it was truly a blessing to be so absorbed in another's company.
The colour of the sky changed to a lazy afternoon glow, and the clouds began to part. If a small but sparkling piece of sun hadn't made it's way into Hermione's face, they probably wouldn't have stopped. She brought a hand up to cup her eyes and blinked, crinkling her nose and peering out the now brightly lit window, smiling.
They thanked the waitress as she sashayed past them and stepped out the door into the blazing sunlight, their eyes alight with a kind of soft appreciation. Harry glanced at his watch and felt Hermione peek over his shoulder as she too checked the time. They both scrunched up their faces in distaste at the hands on the clock and gave each other grim looks, beginning to walk back down the street with heavy feet. They were both surprised at how hard it was to walk away from the little café, it's little creaking sign calling to them in the breeze.
They parted ways at the corner and bid each other goodbye with a brief hug, Hermione squeezing Harry around the middle and giving him the usual tickle of hair under his nose. They listened to each other's footsteps retreating in opposite directions until nothing could be heard anymore except the crunching of their own shoes on pavement.
It was quite a while before anything eventful happened, half an hour at least. Harry cracked first, as usual. Hermione picked up on the first ring.
`Same time tomorrow?'
The lines around her eyes crinkled, and she grinned into the phone. Harry could sense her expression, and smiled.
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The darkness was cold and uninviting. Harry didn't know what time it was when he finally got up and turned on a light. It blinded him uncomfortably, he kept his head down, hands stuffed resolutely in his pockets; they seemed to fit quite perfectly. He clenched the inner material of his jeans with his fingernails. It was so quiet he could hear the low hum of the refrigerator. Small words tried to form themselves in Harry's head, making a somewhat feeble attempt to persuade his feelings, but an attempt nonetheless. At least now it was over. He didn't have to have Hermione's constant presence hovering about his life; he liked to think that would be a good thing. It was impossible to convince himself, however hard he tried.
There was a sharp crack and he felt the familiar squeezing sensation as he apparated. Nothing was going through his mind at that point, the numbness had not subsided. He opened his eyes and looked around him, the small, cold shopfront echoing with his sudden entrance. It was dark and deserted, looking much larger than usual with no one to occupy the space. The fires had been stifled many hours before, there was no tinkling of doorbells or cash registers, no quiet chatters or muffled old-fashioned music. Silence.
Harry looked about him at the place where he had so often thought of as peace, happiness, and though he could still smell the coffee and wooden floorboards, it did not feel like home. She was home. This space was merely the recipe that had brought them together, without her, it was just a memory. A ghost.
The sound of his feet reverberated off the walls and washed over him, Harry found himself standing over their booth but didn't have the nerve to sit down. He flitted from place to place, not quite knowing why he was there or what he wanted, but he hoped that the smell of coffee would calm his thoughts.
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Harry missed that smell as he returned home late in the night, or was it early in the morning? The hours had blended together long ago. He stared blankly at the floor and trudged up the stairs, feeling a very small knot of untied relief. At least it was over. At least he was done pretending. There wouldn't be any lying, there wouldn't be any fighting, there wouldn't be any nervous words scribbled on misshapen bits of paper. He was free. Harry gave a grim smile at the morbid silver lining.
Then, a sound.
The previous thoughts vanished from his mind as if they had never been there, his heart tore from his chest and he catapulted himself off the stairs and towards the front door, his head pounding. He even surprised himself at his instant reaction and hadn't even stopped to think before he had wrenched the door open and thrown himself out into the rain. Harry's eyes scanned the darkness but it didn't take long to find what he was looking for, and he stopped dead.
She had jumped hearing the large slam and turned sharply on her heels to find Harry standing there, her hands at her forehead as if she was struggling to comprehend if and why she was there. Without meaning to, she flung herself through the rain and up the steps to meet him face to face, his eyes falling downwards into hers in piercing confusion. The water pounded on them both in a continuous rhythm, again and again. Hermione opened her mouth to speak with a mixture of frustration and fear hidden in her expression, her chest heaving up and down.
`When I left, you said that you needed me.'
Harry didn't answer, he stared down, stony faced.
`And when you looked at me, I thought I saw-...' She cut off her words, shook her head and cursed under her breath, before attempting again, inhaling hugely before she did so, as if trying to let the sentence all out in one breath.
`I couldn't just leave without checking if you…if you felt the way that I think you do.'
Again, no answer. She glared at Harry and threw her hands about, running them through her wet hair and pacing about in front of him. `Damn it Harry, you can't do this to me! You can't just go and do…that, and then leave this up to me to figure out because I don't know, …I don't know. And I hate that I might be…'
She shook her head, as if trying to squash thoughts out of it. `And I don't do change. I just don't. Change is messy, and complicated, and you made me do it, and that's not fair, Harry! You stupid, stupid man and your `feelings' or whatever you want to call them. I never wanted you to go and make me think that maybe…'
Hermione lifted her gaze, Harry could see her trembling slightly but didn't know if it was because of the rain or the sound of her own voice. `But you and me, we're just so…' A tortured smile twitched at her lips.
`…Easy.'
Harry let out a long breath and leant forward to rest his forehead on hers, closing his eyes for the briefest of moments as if to let his head catch up with her words. Hermione reached in front of her and curled her fingers around his shirt quietly; she was gazing up at him as he reopened his eyes, a small frown upon her face.
Harry just looked back at her, and without saying a word he dipped his head and let his lips fall against hers, gently, effortlessly, as if he had done it every day of his life. He felt her rise up on her toes as he began to pull away, her hand finding its way behind his head as she lingered there and when their lips separated she remained nose to nose.
There was a pause in which they stood there motionless, until Hermione looked down and slid her fingers into his. She led him out of the rain and into the house, her back to him all the while, and it wasn't until the door clicked resolutely back into place that she glanced up at him once more. Harry didn't waste any time, he stepped that extra inch closer and pulled her towards him, their lips meeting before either could express anything else that might get in the way. It was idyllic, out of this world. There was a tug at his shirt and a shift of her body below him, flattening herself more resolutely against the door but Harry was barely aware of it. His brain was in overdrive. There was a tension in the way they embraced each other that surprised them both, it was a hungry, frustrated kind of grip that was not rational. Her hands were in his hair as fast as his had wrapped around her waist, their perfect unison unnoticed by either of them. There was a moment in which brief thought returned to Harry, but Hermione chose that moment to collect his lower lip in hers and tug on it, it was then he completely lost the small amount of control he still had remaining. His tongue found hers and they explored each other blissfully, a flame igniting between the both of them and spurring them on. They grabbed at each in a frenzied attempt to make up for lost time, feeling each other's breath at necks, noses, not knowing who was who.
There was a dull thud as Hermione attempted to push Harry backwards and he collided with the stair banister, he made a muffled sound and felt behind him for the wall, meaning to take a step upwards but his momentary lapse in concentration had caused their lips to part and Hermione's teeth begun to lightly graze underneath his jaw. His eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head and though he had the best intentions to coerce her up the staircase he knew they just weren't going to make it that far. He wrapped his arms tightly around her hips, heaving her upwards and with a sharp crack they had both disapparated, finding themselves at the top of the stairs. Harry heard the scramble of nails on his doorhandle, felt briefly the breeze of something closing behind him but that was about as far as he could remember about anything else other than her.
Harry hadn't released her hips but there was no way in hell that he was going to now, he was very aware at how they had wrapped themselves around him, how he could feel her heels in his back. She pulled them closer and slid her hands down to peel off her shirt; Harry followed her with his own fingers. Her skin was cold, damp; it stuck to the material covering it. In a last tug it was gone and Harry was everywhere, appreciating her. Hermione let him, curling her upper body around his head, her lips brushing his forehead, his neck.
Somewhere in Harry's head there was the constant ringing of disbelief and he could not yet quite comprehend that she was here, that they were doing this. They shed clothing without thinking, naturally, easily, and as Harry felt Hermione's fingernails graze his lower back he let his eyes close briefly for a second before feeling her press down onto him, the heat from her body radiating towards him. Her eyes captured his, holding his gaze as she always had. They stared at each other intently before Hermione, almost involuntarily rolled her hips forward and they both groaned, Harry feeling her mouth at his shoulder.
As they moved together Harry begun to memorise all the things he thought he already knew about her, her smell, the sound of her voice, the way she moved, all from a different perspective. The way she smelled when her hair was around his neck, her voice as it whispered and gasped, her body as it moved on top of him as if they had done this all of their life. She was new to him and yet, not.
And then there was that small, insignificant part of his brain that was sitting there, opened mouthed and aghast at what was actually happening. This wasn't the time for romantic wooing or whispered conversations, neither Harry nor Hermione stopped to rationally talk out their feelings in a calm and sensible fashion.
As if confirming Harry's muted inner thoughts, Hermione took the moment to moan in his ear and his body reacted, her sounds filling him, driving him further over the edge. He let out a guttural growl and clutched her tighter, sliding her further up the wall as they moved. Her hands were everywhere, in his hair, at his hips, pulling him towards her, forcing them impossibly closer together.
`…Harry.'
Harry's eyes almost rolled back into his head and his body involuntary lurched forward at his name said so eagerly through Hermione's lips. Their passion grew wilder, faster, more erratic as he thrust into her over and over, her hands now grasping at the wall as if trying to find a hold on something. There was nothing that was not their bodies, there, completely entwined in each other, the world could have crumbled around them and they wouldn't have noticed. Harry felt Hermione clench her legs more tightly around him, her back arched and her eyes closed as she came, blissfully, beautifully. As he watched her he felt his own body come unhinged and they rode the descent together, foreheads towards each other, eyes locked.
Harry could hear his heart pounding haphazardly, catching up and then dropping back with hers, and there was a moment, unbelievably, that Harry untangled himself from her lips and thrust his head into her neck, her hair, shaking his head slowly, apparently from disbelief, he displayed what she felt. His words were muffled by her skin when she spoke.
`Hermione, my Hermione, I love you, so much. So much.'
Faintly, Harry thought he sensed her lips spreading into a small smile.
`I thought as much.'
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*Lyrics - Guy Sebastian: Cover on my heart.
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