Nothing Left Unsaid

A/N: Hello dear readers, this was an idea that had been forming in the back of my mind for a few days now. Unusually for me it’s a one shot (I can’t typically say all I want to say about Harry and Hermione in one go). Hope you guys enjoy!

P.S. I promise I’m going to get back to “Shattered”. I’ve just stalled out for the moment. Will continue working on my other stories in the meantime.

As usual, I don’t own anything except my imagination. The characters and such are Rowling’s.

~

It was a dark night in Godric’s Hollow. The rain beat mercilessly down onto the pavement, forming puddles and bouncing back upwards to wet Hermione’s feet as she opened the kissing gate to the small church graveyard.

She had had to come back like this, where she could be alone. Where the only other person who could hear her was the person she was here to see.

There were many other places that were considered. After all, he was the most famous wizard in the world. There had been many voices all clamoring to be the site that would surely become a major pilgrimage spot for years to come as people came to pay their respects. Ultimately, it had been her voice that made the others see that there was only one place he would have ever wanted to be.

Here was where it had all started. Forty years ago, a young boy was found in the home of his murdered parents and a saga for the ages had begun. They had been telling his story for his entire life and they were going to tell it for many more years now that he was gone.

But he had never, ever been any of that to her. To her, he had always been a quiet boy who needed a friend. A boy who’s unbelievable bravery had saved her life countless times and who’s undying friendship she treasured above all others.

To her, he had always been just Harry.

She was soaked to the bone as she made her way slowly between headstones, heading for a one that stood out amongst the many well-worn markers because of how new it was.

She could already feel it building, her dread mixing in with an unquenchable sorrow that threatened to swallow her whole. Tears were already falling and mixing in with the rain on her face. A low rumbling of thunder rolled over the sleeping village.

She goes to her knees as she reaches her destination, reaching out her hand to touch the smooth stone.

Harry James Potter

Husband, Father, Friend

So many had pushed for something more “heroic”, but she hadn’t allowed it. He would have never wanted it.

She remembers where she was when Kingsley’s patronus had found her. It was a Sunday, she had been in her study reading a book during one of her rare quiet moments when the deep, slow voice had told her that there had been a mishap in the Auror office; that three Aurors had thought they were busting a small-time smuggling ring had walked into an ambush set by former Death Eaters, that they had all been killed. That one of the Aurors had been the Head of the Office…..

She hadn’t been able to believe it at first. Surely there had been a mistake. There had been so many times before and he had always….

But no. This time it had been real. All too real.

Ginny had been devastated. Ron didn’t speak for a week. The kids had all come home from Hogwarts for an entire week leading up to the funeral and Hermione….she hadn’t spoken either. Not just because her greatest and closest friend was gone, but because he took with him a secret that only she knew.

No marriage was perfect. It took hard work and dedication to make anything between two imperfect people work. Harry and Hermione had always had an agreement: whenever things got tough, they could always go to each other for advice or just to vent. They had spent years talking about Ron’s insensitivity and Ginny’s control issues. They talked about how nice it would be if they could talk with their spouse like they could talk to each other, that they would understand them like they understood each other….

In the end, they had always parted with the knowledge that they loved their spouses and their children and that no matter what it was worth fighting for. A tight hug, a kiss on the cheek and they were back to the lives they had chosen for themselves.

That is, until a month ago. Harry had called Hermione and asked to see her for one of their “marital sessions” as they called them. She had agreed, as there were things she had wanted to talk about too….only….

They hadn’t done much talking at all. She had opened the door and kissed him on the cheek like she always did….always had done for almost thirty years…..but something had been drastically different.

He had looked at her and she had looked at him and suddenly they were seventeen again: dancing to a song on the radio and the whole world was crashing around their ears and none of it mattered because right now it was just him and her.

Like a movie that had been put on pause, they were suddenly back in that moment when the music stopped and he was looking into her eyes….eyes full of affection and gratitude and fear….fear that if they took the chance that was sitting in front of them that there would be no going back.

He had walked away then, but now…..he leaned in and she put her hands on his chest and before either of them knew what had happened they were on her couch and her hands were in his hair and her legs were wrapped around his waist and she was lost….so lost in his sweet kisses that she didn’t even come up for air.

“Finally…”

“Oh God….finally.” had been the only words they shared as they shed their clothes and threw caution to the wind, finally giving in to what had always lurked beneath the surface of their friendship since that moment so long ago when Hermione had wrapped him tight and told him that there were more important things in life than books or cleverness.

By the time that they came to their senses, it was time to go. Ron would be home soon and Ginny had already sent her patronus once. He gave her one last desperate kiss and they promised that they would meet again….sometime very soon….and talk about it. Talk about everything that this meant and everything that they hadn’t ever had the courage to say before.

Only, that day was today and there would only be one side to the conversation this time.

Hermione could feel her hot tears mixing with the cold rain on her cheeks, the conflict in temperature a fitting symbol of the conflict in her heart.

Sorrow for her lost friend and lover. Shame that she had failed at the biggest decision she had made in life all those years ago. Fear at what being here meant….

Fear at what it would be like to do it alone….

“I was scared Harry.” She talks out loud, not sure if she’s crazy or completely sane for getting this mountain off her chest. “I was so scared back then that I would lose you, that you could never feel that way about me. I was terrified that if we were together then I wouldn’t be able to think objectively enough to keep you alive…..”

She takes a deep breath before the plunge, “It was always you Harry. You were always the first in my heart.”

As she feels the pressure slide off her chest she can no longer hold back the sobs that rack her body, shaking her with a violence only matched by the tearing of the screams in her throat. Her soul shattering grief is only drowned out by the driving rain on the sodden earth. Like the heavens themselves are pouring out the vials of her sorrow.

For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger is without Harry Potter.

An incompleteness settled over her as the last of her sobs dies in her throat. The feeling of not being whole….of being only half of what she was before.

She had decided, before, that she wasn’t going to live her life in a lie anymore. She wasn’t going to pretend that what happened with Harry wasn’t real. There were divorce papers sitting in her desk drawer at home…..

She had found Harry’s in a box labeled only by her name.

That whatever they could have had was out of her grasp now left her with no answers. For once in her life, Hermione just didn’t know.

Was it fair to anyone to reveal the truth now? Ron, Ginny, Molly, the kids…..most of them were barely coping now…..if they knew the truth…..

But the truth hadn’t really died with Harry. She still loved him more than life itself, whether he was alive or not. She couldn’t bear to make it worse for anyone now, but there would be a time when the grief wasn’t so suffocating and then…..she could do what she knew in her heart she had to do.

Until then, there were things she couldn’t leave unsaid.

She pulls out a fat envelope, an impervious charm on it to keep it from getting wet. A fresh tear escapes as she remembers why she learned the spell in the first place.

“It’s all here Harry, everything. Everything that I never had the courage to say and everything that I kept locked away for all these years.”

She places the envelope on the ground behind the pile of roses that she herself left here just that morning.

“I just thought you should know.” She touches his name one more time. Closing her eyes and imagining that she’s tucking a stand of hair behind his ear. She bends down and places a kiss on the stone and just before pulling away she whispers

“There are more important things…friendship, bravery, and love. I love you Harry.”

She lets it sink in, drinks in the sound of rain sliding off the roof of the church and the smell of roses and wet grass…..

She finally finds her way to her feet, marveling that she has the strength to place her feet underneath her. She feels lighter, like a massive weight has been taken off of her shoulders.

He knows.

She puts one foot in front of the other. The light splashing of her shoes barely audible in the cacophony of raindrops. It’s an accurate metaphor, she thinks, for what her life is now. Putting one foot in front of the other, just a step at a time, wondering at each step what it would be like if he were there beside her.

If she closed her eyes and thought hard enough, she could almost swear that he was.

A/N: I must like the taste of my words. Let me eat them, since this was supposed to be a one-shot and here I am adding a part two. Haha. I just had this idea of making a second part where we get to see the other side of the coin: a “what if it was the other way around?” scenario. Needless to say, the idea took hold of my imagination and here we are. Cheers!

~

The cloudless, sunny day seemed to mock Harry with its beauty. Surely on a day like today, the weather should have reflected the despondent condition of his heart.

It had been two weeks, two whole weeks since last he had been here. For a true Gryffindor, it had taken longer than he would have thought to gather the courage to come back here. Then again, things might have been very different if he hadn’t been so cowardly all those years ago.

The smell of fresh cut grass floods his nostrils as he walks across the lawn towards the small marker at the top of the hill. Appropriate, he thinks, as that was one of her favorite smells. It was a beautiful collection of hillocks just within sight of the ocean. A quiet and peaceful place where he could perfectly well picture her stretched out and reading a book in the shade of a tree. Her father had purchased it ages ago, for a summer home he had said, but everyone had agreed that it made a perfect place of rest for her now.

He had been in his office at HQ when he had gotten a frantic floo call from Ginny. There had been an accident, Ron was driving Hermione around London and another driver had run a red light…..

He rushed to the scene as fast as he could. There were muggle police officers and emergency personnel everywhere. Ron was sitting on the ground and yelling at someone who was lying on their back. Begging them to wake up. His heart had gone cold when he saw the EMT shake their head and take Ron by the hand. A whine of panic started in his head. No no no no no no. This can’t be real. The paramedics were trying to get Ron into an ambulance as his head was bleeding, but Ron refused to leave her side. Harry had had to intervene before Ron pulled his wand and started hexing people.

He wasn’t sure now how he had ever kept a level enough head to handle the tricky transfer of her body into wizard custody, or to get the kids pulled from Hogwarts for a week, or to help her parents with funeral arrangements. Maybe he had reverted to his old habit of forcing everything deeper inside, ignoring it until a time when he could properly take it all in. Maybe it just hadn’t sunk in yet that she was gone. Walking up the hill, it was all too real to him now.

The funeral had been a small, family affair. Her parents couldn’t bear any of the pomp that the Ministry had wished to take part in. He had sat in the front row between a weeping Ginny and a stone faced Ron. The entire time Harry could feel his sorrow being swirled around by an even larger burden of guilt.

Guilt not because she was gone, but guilt because of what she took with her.

He had called her weeks before, wanting to talk to her about his and Ginny’s latest fight. Wanting to hear her calming voice explain how he should have listened a little more or been willing to give just a little more. To vent to her like he so often did about how it wasn’t fair that things seemed to have to go Ginny’s way all the time. That it wasn’t fair that she couldn’t understand the things that he didn’t want to talk about with his wife.

That there were things that he would only talk to Hermione about.

She opens the door and kisses him on the cheek, but when he sees her eyes he’s no longer at her home in Ottery St. Catchpole.

He’s in a tent somewhere in the woods. There’s a song on the radio and he wants more than anything just to see her smile. He twirling her around and they both give in to the laughter and the silliness of it all. Before the song ends, before the reality of their surroundings can take it away, they’re standing there together. There’s so much affection in her eyes and warmth in his chest. His heart and his head are arguing. Screaming at one another.

This is the way it should have been all along!

She’s not yours to hold! You love Ginny!

He wants so badly to give in, but he can’t bring himself to betray Ron and Ginny. He can’t summon the courage to follow his heart and to hell with the consequences.

For once in his life, Harry Potter was a coward.

But here they are again. Just like then it is just him and her. He sees the same affection he saw then and this time he catches it: he sees the fear that he never caught before. The same fear that made him walk away all those years ago. The same fear that lead them to walk the path they’ve been on for so long now. He sees it and he can’t stand it any longer. He refuses to live the life he has been gifted with in fear any longer.

He leans in and he kisses her and she tastes better than he ever could have imagined. Her lips are a drug and it only takes the first touch to have him hopelessly addicted. His hands roam her wild hair and her scent floods his senses and pushes him over the edge. He forgets completely who he is and why he came here and gets completely lost in the woman underneath him. The one who stood by him for so long, whose voice was so present in the back of his mind and whose calming influence had always driven away his nightmares.

It’s only when it’s over and they’re panting and staring into each other’s eyes that he sees the look of shock and renewed fear written on her face and remembers just who he is.

He’s Harry James Potter.

He’s married to Ginevra Weasley Potter. With whom he has three children.

He’s lying here with Hermione Weasley.

He frantically tells her that they’ll talk about this. That sometime soon, when he can think straight, they’ll figure out what this means.

He knows what he’s done. He knows that they’re about to ruin two families. That they’ve broken the trust of their two closest friends and spouses. That the potential is there to rip their entire lives apart. He knows and it makes him sick to his stomach to think of how he would ever explain this to anybody.

What makes him feel even worse is that none of it is enough to change his mind. That it doesn’t stop him from quietly drafting the divorce papers with a private lawyer. It makes him the worst sort of person there is, the same kind of person that would have disgusted a younger version of himself, but if he’s honest with himself then he knows that this is the person that he really was all along.

He never belonged to Ginny Weasley.

He reaches the small headstone underneath a beech tree. He takes a seat and just sits there. Staring at the name etched into the stone.

Hermione Jean Weasley

A Mother and a Friend.

He reaches into his pocket. The other reason it took him so long to come back here is because he had been searching for something in the Forbidden Forest.

He pulls out two things: a thick envelope and a small stone.

He had spent two weeks in torturous arguments with himself, going over and over the risks and rewards that using the stone would have. Greater men than he had been driven mad by it. But he was so desperate to see her, just one more time. He turns it over once, but before he can turn it a second or a third time, a small voice speaks in the back of his mind.

Harry, you know this isn’t right. You promised.

He had sworn he would never go looking for it and yet here he was, about to use it for his own selfish purposes. Not that he hadn’t been selfish before…

He rears back and throws the stone over the cliff into the ocean below. Never to be seen again. He puts the envelope at the bottom of the headstone, taking a deep breath to prepare himself to say what he needed to say.

“I’m sorry, Hermione. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be brave one more time and that I walked away all those years ago. No one could ever take your place in my heart.” He feels the cool breeze blow against the hot tears escaping his eyes. “There’s so much I wanted to say to you, so much I could have shared.”

He reaches out and touches the stone. Not that he wasn’t used to having things snatched away from him, but somehow the hurt of knowing that she had her own divorce papers in a file with his name on it, hurts worse than anything he had ever experienced in life before. She had come to the same conclusion he had. Then again, they had always thought so much alike….

“You know I’m not much of a writer, but it’s all there.” He looks at the envelope, her name sprawled across it in his handwriting. He still can’t believe she’ll never again finish one of his sentences or lecture him on being more organized or laugh at one of Ron’s drunken holiday antics. He feels like he’s half the man that he once was. That a large part of who he was rested in the soil beneath him.

“I won’t be scared anymore.” He pushes himself to his feet, looking one more time at her name. He closes his eyes and listens to the wind blow through the branches of the beech tree. He imagines himself sitting beneath a different beech tree, with a bushy haired, brown eyed girl sitting next to him with her nose in a book. “We could have had ages…years….” He chokes on his own words.

“I love you Hermione Granger. Always have and always will.”

He turns and walks away, while he still has the strength to do it.

This was just the first step. There were many more to be taken and some of them were going to make the trip to the Forbidden Forest seem like a cakewalk. But a conviction flooded his heart. Maybe he was a terrible person for doing what he had to; maybe the truth should have died with her…..

But the real truth was that the truth of the matter between him and Hermione had never, and would never go away.

It was nice to pretend that the warmth of the sun was the warmth of one of her bone-crunching hugs.

~

A/N: I don’t normally do author’s notes after a story, but a couple of you had said, and I acknowledge that the Harry and Hermione in this story are far from saintly. That what they do is selfish and cowardly and ultimately destructive of everybody else in their lives. I recognize that, in fact, that’s meant to be a part of the story. I’m sorry if that offends anyone. I never meant to come across as making it all seem “okay” or that Harry/Hermione didn’t realize exactly what they were doing. In fact, I wrote it quite the opposite. That they know exactly what they’re doing and do it anyway. That’s not me saying that it’s morally acceptable, but that that’s the darker side of human nature and the terrible power that love in its many facets can have. There’s a reason Dumbledore called it the most “powerful and terrible” force in the world. Anyways, just thought I would save the trouble and address that issue here. Love all my readers and the insightful reviews you always have!