Part Seven
The pain I felt after that day in my office stayed with me, shackled me. I had experienced so much pain in my life, but this was so different. There were times it hurt to breathe, hurt to move. I couldn't fathom how I would get past it, the sound of your broken, horrified words, the sight of you rushing away from me.
It was all I could do just to avoid you. I couldn't look at you anymore without revealing all, without desperately trying to control the urge to take you into my arms once more.
And all of this was made harder when Ginny appointed you as her maid of honor. Your presence was near constant and even when you weren't at my flat helping with preparations, my fiancée would come home with your scent still, very slightly, lingering in her crimson hair.
I kept my distance as much as possible, going out with Ron with the excuse of living up the rest of my bachelor days. But even that was sometimes too much. Through the beer and the smoky air of whatever pub we went to, you lingered on him, too, and even more potently, more painfully.
You were everywhere and I could not get away from you. It was, admittedly, both a blessing and a curse.
Months went by with only painful glimpses of you as I made my way out the door of my flat, or on the way to lunch at work, or as I greeted everyone so cheerfully upon arriving at the Burrow nearly every Sunday - when I wasn't using the excuse of a migraine or a particularly gruesome case I was working on whenever I knew I just couldn't handle the sight of you.
You were always perfectly affable, greeting me with a hug - so brief and uncomfortable now - for our family's eyes, to prevent unanswerable questions.
Indeed, no questions were asked. We seemed completely normal to everyone else. If not, I imagine they wrote it all off as stress from planning the wedding which loomed so very close.
A week before the wedding had Ginny staying with Bill and Fleur, helping her very pregnant sister-in-law around the cottage with the daily chores, as necessary. I was enjoying the silence and time to myself, watching the telly with little interest and eating from a bag of crisps when suddenly the fireplace erupted with the green flames that preceded your arrival. I had no chance to do anything about the boxers and stained t-shirt ensemble, of course, before you stumbled out, covered in soot and carrying many white bags.
We stared at each other with wide, surprised eyes before you finally managed a small, sheepish hello. After a moment, I stood from my comfortable place on the sofa, went to you tentatively.
"Don't," you said. "I can manage. You're not supposed to see anyway."
"I won't look," I said, quietly. "I just want to help."
You looked at me for a moment, warily, as if you didn't trust me. It hurt, but maybe you were right in thinking as much. Still, you handed me the contents in your left hand. "She wants these in Ron's old room," you said in the same quiet tone.
I nodded and turned away with great effort on my part, led you to the spare room which was now like one big closet of wedding stuff, blindingly white. We set the bags down wherever possible in the cluttered room. I watched as you reached to hang one up in the wardrobe, your dark blue shirt lifting with your arm and exposing the curve of your pale waist.
I shivered, turned away, and went into the hall. My hands were shaking when you joined me a moment later. We were so close. My hands were shaking with all I wanted to do with them, with you.
You gasped at the close proximity. We hadn't been this close in months, not alone.
I couldn't move. I could only stare at you. What other choice did I have? Moving away from you would have been agony. Moving closer to you would be a torture of another kind.
In the silence I heard you take ragged breaths. The light was dim in the small hallway, but I could see your large, brown eyes staring up at me with every unspoken emotion of every unspoken exchange of before. Could you see how mine reflected as much and so much more? Could you hear my own ragged breathing? Could you feel how I shook, now from head to toe?
"Well," you whispered, a few long moments later, on one of your trembling breaths, "I'll see you later, Harry."
My heart felt like breaking again. This was why I couldn't be near you, why I couldn't see you anymore. The pain of watching you walk away from me was simply unbearable. Breathing started to hurt again. My eyes stung. But you didn't move at first. You took a moment longer, staring up at me and I at you.
"Hermione," I breathed. Even my voice shook.
You didn't reply, except that you lowered your devastated eyes and took the first step to leave me again.
I couldn't let you. Not again. I reached for your hand, took it into mine, held you fast. You gasped my name so quietly. I pulled you closer. I took your face in my other hand in the small, dim hallway. I took a deep, shaky breath; if I could but inhale you…
A whimper escaped your lips. It sounded like my name again. I continued shaking as my face neared yours, my hand, the one lost in your bushy curls, pulling you closer still.
You did not resist me as I kissed you softly. There were no tears this time; you simply responded, accepted it, accepted me and everything we had left unspoken for so long.
As ever, we had no need for words. Everything we knew and never spoke about was being shared again as we kissed for some time, the depth of it steadily increasing until I had you pressed against the wall, lifted up, wrapped around me.
I tore at your shirt as we grew more passionate, desperate to see you fully. The sleeve gave way and I pushed the fabric away as much as possible, kissing what skin I was able to expose. You held on to me tightly, moaning breathlessly at my attentions, gasping whenever I dared go further. Your gray skirt was wrinkled and around your hips; I could feel the moist heat of you through my clothes. My own desire pressed against your thigh, and the hot kisses you left upon my neck were soon to send me over the edge.
My lips returned to yours, eagerly, and my hand left your hair. Still holding you, my free hand reached between our fevered bodies to free us both of the thin layers of our cloth restraints.
Your hold on me tightened, you moaned deeply into our kiss as my fingers touched you for the first time. Another moan as I rubbed myself against you. We were both shaking, gasping, kissing - wordlessly begging for more. My hands moved to your hips as I entered you, my eyes and teeth clenched as the intense feeling of being inside you washed over me. Your hands pulled my hair, scratched my neck, and I shuddered against you as every part of you tightened around me in greeting.
We savored the initial wave of our crime, our passion for a moment. My hips eased into a gentle, slow rhythm as I kissed you again, your lips, your jaw, your neck. As our movements gradually sped and intensified, so did our breathless, gasping moans, our frantic, hungry kissing. Your hands grasped the flesh of my neck and shoulders. I thrust harder, feeling the intense pressure build. Clenched around me more tightly than ever, I held you as you seemed to curl in around me, welcoming your climax with a deep moan in my ear. I could no longer hold back at the sound of your pleasure. With a groan I gave in to the intense pressure, gave in with a groan which was muffled by the skin of your soft neck.
My knees almost buckled, weak and sore with exertion and a pleasure that seemed to touch every inch of me. But I kept hold of you, remained standing, listening to your small, continued whimpering. Your limbs had gone limp, as well, but as I moved you held on to me again. I carried you to my room, placed you gingerly on the bed, crawled in beside you. You seemed asleep before your head hit the pillow and I smiled at the sight of you, flushed and disheveled, comfortable and peaceful.
I wrapped myself around you, held you close to me. I fought to stay awake, fought to relish every moment I had with you, but my eyes grew heavy, too heavy. I buried my face in your hair and sighed, breathing you in. My last memory of that night was of how it felt to smile just because you were the one in my arms.
I don't know when I fell asleep, but when I woke… you were gone.