Unofficial Portkey Archive

Hey guys. Here's the next chapter. Thanks for reading-thanks for the reviews! I've finished writing this story, should have 2 chapters after this one. Enjoy!

CHAPTER SEVEN: GOODBYE TO YOU

Of all the things I believe in
I just want to get it over with
Tears form behind my eyes
But I do not cry
Counting the days that past me by

I've been searching deep down in my soul
Words that I'm hearing are starting to get old
Looks like I'm starting all over again
The last three years were just pretend and I say
]
Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything I thought I knew
You were the one I love
The one thing that I tried to hold on to

"Goodbye To You" MICHELLE BRANCH

What have I done?

A churning, hot ball of guilt-laden lead is wrecking havoc in my stomach. A hardcore pounding pulses somewhere in my head. I feel like I'm going to puke-I'm not sure if it's my hangover or my ethics causing the discomfort.

How could I do this?

My eyes automatically go to the alarm clock sitting on his bedside table. The red digits glare 3:47.

What was I thinking?

Fate is a cruel practical joker. What are the odds of meeting at a bar, me drunk and horny, and him…well, deliciously perfect, as usual?

I let my eyes quickly glance down at his sleeping form. The moonlight makes his pale skin look like a bleached white, a startling contrast against his midnight ebony hair. I physically ache for him to open his eyes so I can see the absolute burning passion those emerald orbs are capable of holding.

Irritatingly sober, I move the smallest bit to see if I can wiggle from his grasp without waking him.

He stirs, but only just. Confident, I ease his heavy arm that is slung possessively over my naked hip and quickly stand. Still slightly woozy, I almost fall over. I shake it off and try to find my clothes in the dark. My body aches. A dull throb pulsates between my thighs. I think I might have grown back a whole fucking cherry tree. I accidently hit his dresser and I hear him move again.

Forget my clothes. I need to get out of here, quick. What if Ginny caught us? How could I so selfishly put his future in jeopardy?

I curse myself for not bringing my wand. I am so stupid.

I open a drawer and pull out a pair of jeans. Next drawer over, I steal a t-shirt.

I look one last time at his sleep body. I want to pull the sheet back to fully appreciate him, but I dare not even try. Heart breaking all over again, I open the door and head out into the hall. Once in the safety of the kitchen, I wiggle into his jeans, damning his too narrow hips. His shirt fits, but I put my arms underneath and stretch so it falls loosely against my breasts.

I feel terrible for leaving him like this. I grab a pen and write a quick note on a pad of paper sitting on his kitchen table: Good-bye Harry. I rip the bottom half off the paper and slowly walk back to his room. I just want to see him one last time.

I creep into his room and place the note on his bedside table. He looks so peaceful. How many hours have I just watched him sleep? I've seen him go through so much hell, when he's peacefully sleeping, he looks younger, happier. I used to force myself to stay awake, just to watch.

I lean down and chance the whisper of kiss to his forehead. "Good-bye," I breathe as tears begin to form at the corners of my eyes.

I eye my jacket in the light flooding into a small section of the room from the moon and pick it up. I slink from the room, not looking back.

My walk of shame is long. Four in the morning in London. Without the distraction of being in Harry's bedroom, I have to acknowledge that I have a hangover from hell. My coat hugs my body, keeping me only semi-warm. I don't think. I focus on the chattering of my teeth, on the tinkling of my keys in my jacket. Finally, I get to the empty parking lot with my parents' SUV. Chilled to the bone, I hastily hop in and crank up the heat. It takes a minute or so for me to thaw, but once I regain the use of my fingers, I head home.

Now I'm on a train. I packed as soon as I got home. I roused my parents around seven. They bought my story of work calling and telling me someone broke their leg, and they need me to come in tomorrow morning. It was only a day early anyway. They understood. I hated lying. I had to get out of London.

There is no train to Seaham today. I considered Apparating, but I'm not ready to face the loneliness of my empty apartment just yet. I have to take a very long route to two other stations with a few hours of layover time. I welcome it.

Tired, I lay back on the bench I'm sharing with Jasper and close my eyes. I let last night's bliss wash over me, finally.

"Take me somewhere, now." I demand, reaching up for another fiery kiss. He tastes better than anything in the world.

He pulls me into the hallway leading to the loo, conveniently empty. Instead of going to a familiar stall, however, he Dispparates without breaking our heated kiss. We end up just inside the doors of his building. "Oops. Meant to go directly to my flat." He mumbles against my mouth. He picks me up and carries me to his floor then pushes me up against the door as he fumbles with his keys. Finally, we are inside his flat.

It isn't awkward. I don't allow time for that. He attempts to pull away but I only tighten my hold on him. Getting the point, he takes me to his bedroom.

Jasper nudges my arm, whimpering. Eyes still closed, I whisper tiredly, "Shhh, baby. Mummy is exhausted. A man with a devil's tongue kept me up all night." I finish with a giggle as I let my mind wander again.

His hands were fire on my body. "Hermione, what-" He tries to say something but I don't let him.

"Shhh, don't talk." I command, my hands reaching for his belt.

He pulls off my jacket and throws it on the floor. My shirt follows.

I shimmy quickly out of my jeans. I feel like I'm about to combust, it's almost painful.

I pull him onto the bed. It creaks under our combined weight. He shifts so he can see me. His eyes are a shade I've never seen before, but I feel flames might engulf me if he keeps looking at me like that.

I want don't want flames; I want the whole damn fire.

"Hermione, please, just for a second, listen. You're drunk. Just-"

Set ablaze by my sheer desire for this moment, for him, I shut him up with a kiss. I won't let him deny me. I won't let him ruin this with talk about how wrong this is. I push him on his back and straddle his hips. I can feel his arousal on my inner thigh. I kiss him fiercely and trail my tongue down his neck, to his nipples, down his stomach.

He moans. It's such a delicious sound and invokes my own groan of anticipation. He helps me tug off his boxers and makes quick work of my knickers.

He's in control again. Apparently, he got the point that we aren't talking about this. His hands are in my hair, begging me to trail my kisses even lower.

I coyly oblige.

"Oh God." He gulps in a deep breath of air. "Oohh."

He flips us so I'm on my back again. His mouth is everywhere, his hands trailing only seconds behind.

A horn in the distance jolts me from my reverie, right when I was remembering the best parts. Irritated, I peek out to see that we are at the second station.

Two hours of waiting. I grab a bite to eat at a café across the street from the station. I take Jasper to the bathroom; a subtle flick of my wand from the arm of my jacket cleans up his mess.

I board the next train, this time I share a compartment with a snoring old lady. I pull a blanket from my bag and cover myself up.

I stare out the window as the grassy scenery rushes past.

I'm doing the right thing.

I'm giving him a chance.

I try to convince myself not to go running back. Last night ignited the inferno that burns inside of me for him. I want more. I need more.

"God, Harry, please…I need you…now…please, now!" I beg, reaching between us to guide him right where I want him.

He doesn't hesitate. He plunges deep within me and I let out a small whimper. It hurts, but the pain is more liberating than anything I've ever felt.

He lets out a sharp gasp, followed by what can only be described as a more-than-satisfied groan.

I ground my hips against him, needing to feel the friction this dance presents. He catches the hint. He pulls out then slams against me again.

My mouth is everywhere, trying to kiss any part of him I can reach. His body is already covered in sweat. I don't care. The salty tang of his skin combined with the musky taste of him is arousing-hell, it's exactly what I crave. More. More. More.

My fingers wind in his hair, pulling it in all directions. Too hard, but he doesn't seem to mind. My hands roam his back, nails digging so deep I wouldn't be surprised if I draw blood. Once again, he doesn't mind in the slightest.

He isn't exactly gentle either. He thrusts into me with such force it's no wonder I've wedged a pillow between me and the headboard. A passionate, no-holding-back-anything fuck.

Our breathing is uneven, loud. Moans are tangled into muffled screams of pleasure.

Switching positions. Harry always did love to keep if fresh. I find myself bent against the bed, one of his hands holding my hip while the other seeks refuge in the apex of my thighs as he makes his way behind me. I grip the edge of the bed, eye squeezing closed tightly. He grunts behind me, pulling me nearer. He pushes my knees back up on the bed, all the while inching my thighs apart just a little more to make room for his body to get closer. The light pang at my hips from being spread to their limits is wonderful.

After a mind numbing fuck, we just laid there, trying to regain our bearings. Before either of us could say anything, I started round two. It was slower, longer. Reconnecting. We made love for what felt like hours. Lip-biting, hand-tingling, leg-trembling love.

It was glorious-some of our best work. Just thinking about it makes my hands tremble and itch to trail down to the button on my jeans , just to relive even a small fracture of pleasure he brought me last night, right here in this train compartment. I can certainly feel a cool wetness that has pooled at my crotch during my reminiscing. I chance a glance at the sleeping old lady, pull my blanket up higher to my chin, and let fingers slowly explore. They ease the button open effortlessly, make quick work of my zipper, and with one eye on my riding company, I naughtily dip two fingers into my cotton panties. I stifle a moan of pleasure. My eyes flutter closed. I begin to replay last night's events in my head a second time, my breathing shallow.

I don't even last a full minute. Small spasms of pleasure jolt through my body, paling in comparison to last night's orgasms.

Last night, I was sober enough to know what I was doing, but far too drunk to care.

I'm sober now. I can see the possible repercussions of my stupid actions-despite riding a slight high from my own naughty ministrations.

My thoughts are stopped by another train changeover. It's hard to board this last one, the one that is going to take me to my banishment.

But I board it. Just a few hours now. Night has fallen. What a way to spend New Years' Eve.

I board it because I'm good girl. Despite my naughty thoughts, I'm good. I'm full of repentance.

Closure. I never got to say good-bye to Harry. I never knew, the last time we had been together on his birthday, that it was going to be the last time. I would have made it last long, would have appreciated it more. Our bodies never got to say good-bye.

Now I knew. And I got to say good-bye for hours. I got my closure. Perhaps I can move on now, the way he has.

I've been selfish. I'd manipulated Harry that night in the tent. He was a seventeen year old boy-I knew he wouldn't say no, not even pure Harry.

I had thought, that night, that I was making a deal with the Devil. I would sacrifice my love to make him forget, just for a little while. I had meant to be selfless.

I should have known the obligation he would have felt to me after. I know him better than anyone. How could he ever have a chance if I was always there, over his shoulder, tempting him with breasts and a vagina? I took advantage of him without even knowing it. Loyal Harry would never leave me, his best friend, for anyone, even if it was what he wanted more than anything.

Because he's the selfless one. He would give up his own happiness to make me happy. And he wouldn't think anything of it. In fact, he would be happy to.

I'm such a terrible person for taking advantage of that. I remember a rendezvous in a bar bathroom stall. He had been there with a girl from work, strictly platonic. He had told me that she meant nothing, and if I wanted him to, he'd leave right now and not think a second thought about it.

He had been genuine. I never had to worry about him with anyone. Back then, I thought it was because he loved me-it was because he loved me.

But did he love me for so long because his loyalty would never give him a real chance to love anyone else?

I can't answer that. And I won't be his regret, just like he will never be one of mine. I know he'd never see me that way, but I would see myself that way.

Selfless. It's my turn to be truly selfless, I remind myself.

Because now he did get a chance to love, at his own free will. As much as I hate it, I'm happy for him. I'm sorry for last night to Ginny. I'm sorry I turned Harry into a cheater. He tried to beg off-though not all that heartily, I have to admit with a satisfied smirk. Remembering the sounds of his moans elicits a gentle pulsating in my already-wet panties. Despite my own little happy ending back in the last train, I still want him so bad. Uncomfortable because the desire is becoming almost painful, I sit up and pull Jasper to my lap. I need to take my mind off of him.

Impossible.

Silently, I cry as the train rushes me further and further north. My tears cool my desire.

It's late. Seaham Railway Station is not terribly busy. I put Jasper on a leash and swing my duffle bag over my head and onto my shoulder. Tears dried up, eyes still red, I walk out into the night's cool air.

It's late, almost eleven `o'clock. "Happy New Year," I mumble unenthusiastically to myself.

The night is dark. I look for a safe place to Disapparate to my small flat when I hear a voice behind me.

"I've been waiting for you. I wasn't sure if you were going to make it."

I turn around, shocked, to see Harry leaning up against his SUV, hands tucked casually in his pockets. If my bag hadn't been slung across my body, I would have dropped it.

Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything I thought I knew
You were the one I love
The one thing that I tried to hold on to

Oh yeah
It hurts to want everything & nothing at the same time
I want what's yours and I want what's mine
I want you but I'm not giving in this time

"Goodbye To You" MICHELLE BRANCH

Well, what did you think?! PLEASE let me know-I might post faster, seeing as how I'm DONE with the rest of the story. So yeah…hopefully you guys liked it!

Thanks for reading!

*~Archie~*

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