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Gypsy Heart

Hermione Granger sat at her small cherry wood desk in the parlor of her London home and wrote in a leather bound notebook, a diary she had been keeping since she had begun her life in the wizarding world.

I dreamt about him again last night, but since I dream about him all day I shouldn't be surprised. My mind is obsessed with him and my heart feels betrayed. I feel uneasy, weighed down by this infatuation with a man I cannot have. I dream about secret messages and heated whispers. I tell him "You don't know what you do to me," even as he walks away. The dreams are fitful and unhappy, but I still cling to them like some precious memory...

Hermione stopped writing and stared ahead with empty eyes, she was utterly and hopelessly in love with him and had been for years. In fact, her infatuation had begun the moment she walked into that compartment on the Hogwarts Express in her third year and had her breath taken away. Hermione had been a child when she first fell in love with Remus Lupin, a school girl with a crush on her teacher. But as she grew older, she found her heart refused to let him go. In her own way she had tried to move on... There was Viktor, who had been the first one to love her for herself. Ron, whose devotion had both taught her to hope and broke her heart. She had always loved Ron, and always would, but not the way she loved Remus. She didn't love anything or anyone the way she loved Remus.

Sometimes she thought that she couldn't live without the pain her love for him brought her. She had lived with it for so many years, and now she knew how to deal with it. As long as she didn't see him, hear his voice, she was ok, she could move on as much as possible.

Hermione stood up and went to check on the chicken she had in the oven. The comfortable little flat she shared with long time boyfriend Oliver Wood was warm and cozy from the heat of the kitchen, battling the miserable London winter outside. She summoned a bowl full of fresh vegetables from the refrigerator and sliced them with a flick of her wand. Placing them in a pan on the stove top, Hermione added a generous amount of butter and lit the burner under the pan. Oliver would be home any moment, hungry from a long day on the Quidditch pitch. She was sprinkling fresh ground pepper on to the vegetables when she heard the door open. She leaned past the kitchen door, to smile at him in the hallway. Oliver was grinning back at her, but Hermione's smile had faded, her heart dropping through the bottom of her stomach.

"Got out of practice early, so I stopped in at the pub. Look who I ran into," Oliver said cheerily. Remus' sleepy gray eyes peered at her from underneath long lashes, his shy smile contrasting with his rugged features. Hermione's heart fluttered uncontrollably. Regaining her composure she managed a smile.

"What a nice surprise Remus, would you like to stay for dinner?"

Hermione Granger was certain she was going to die. Remus sat on one side of her, Oliver on the other. She was having a hard time breathing much less eating.

"What brings you to town?" Oliver was asking Remus. Hermione knew that Remus lived far away from London in a small cottage on the Isle of Man. She had been there once, a long time ago, but she remembered it as being very beautiful and very lonely. The image of rolling green hills and rocky sea cliffs drowned out Remus' answer. The ghost of a cold wind lifting her hair, his arms around her waist, the sea foam green quilt on his bed...

"I'm sure it would be fine with Hermione," Oliver's voice said distantly. Hermione looked up from her untouched dinner plate with a faint blush on her cheeks. Oliver laughed, light in his rich brown eyes.

"I was telling Remus that you wouldn't mind if he stayed with us for the night," he said smiling at her.

"Oh, of course not," Hermione said automatically. "We would be happy to have you Remus."

Later that night after Remus had been given a blanket and pillows for the couch, Hermione was upstairs getting ready for bed with Oliver. She gazed at herself absently in the mirror and unbuttoned her shirt, her fingers working from muscle memory. Her thoughts were with the man downstairs. Oliver came up behind her and wrapped his strong arms around her, kissing her neck. Hermione pulled away a little.

"Oliver, not tonight..." she murmured.

"Please honey," he whispered in her ear. His teeth nibbled at her earlobe and Hermione relaxed into his embrace. She wanted him to make her forget the man she couldn't have. She closed her eyes and let him peel the rest of her clothes off, she kissed him back, ran her hands up his sculpted athlete's chest, let him sink into her. But when she opened her eyes it was Remus she wanted to see. The longing hit her like a ton of bricks and she closed her eyes again, imagining the man she had loved her whole life.

Guilt welled up in her, spilling out of her eyes in the form of hot, salty tears. Hermione pressed her cheek to Oliver's neck so that he couldn't see her cry. She loved him, but it was never enough to erase Remus. No one would ever be enough. Hermione cried out, faking an orgasm, and Oliver finished moments later. She kissed him gently and watched him fall asleep next to her, his face peaceful and content.

"I love you 'Mione," he whispered to her in the darkness.

Hermione lay awake watching the night slip away. She couldn't sleep knowing he was downstairs. It was very early, three thirty she guessed and Oliver would be up in a few hours to make an early practice. She knew that if she fell asleep she would dream about him, maybe even speak his name, and she couldn't do that to Oliver, he had been so good to her. Rolling out of bed, Hermione crept quietly downstairs and into the kitchen hoping that a cup of tea would help soothe her nerves.

She was dipping her spoon down into a jar of snow white sugar when she heard the wooden floor creak quietly. Hermione's breath caught in her chest. Remus stood in the entryway to the kitchen, bare chested, and wearing a pair of sweat pants. His gray brown hair was tousled in all directions and his bedroom eyes shone sleepily. Oliver was a man any woman would look at twice, but Remus was undoubtedly the most beautiful person Hermione had ever met. Her attraction to him went far beyond his physical appearance. Remus held a magnetism for her that she couldn't explain. She bit her lip nervously.

"Sorry if I woke you, I couldn't sleep," she whispered to the angel in her kitchen. Remus didn't say a word. He walked over to where she was standing until his bare skin was pressed against the thin fabric of her tank top. His forehead pressed itself to hers and she heard him inhale deeply. He was unbearably close, and he smelt like heaven. Hermione knew that she wasn't strong enough to resist him, hard as she may try. She backed up a step, finding the refrigerator door at her back. Remus' rough hands ran up her sides, lifting her shirt over her head. Wrapping his arms around her bare torso he pressed his lips to hers.

It was as though her every dream and every prayer and every wish had been answered. The intoxication was instantaneous as heat pulsed through her body. Her delicate hands tugged at the waistband of his pants, and they slid down his legs. His kiss was urgent and demanding and Hermione gave everything she had. Not wanting to wait, Remus pulled her underwear aside and slipped into her wet heat. Hermione felt his calloused hand cover her mouth to silence her moan. Her desire was overwhelming, and it only took a few strokes to send her over the edge into the most powerful orgasm she had ever experienced. Remus' mouth was on her neck, whispering words of unbridled lust, his hips still working against hers as he continued to take her against the cold metal of the refrigerator.

He told her how much he had always loved her, how he couldn't stand the thought of her with anyone else, how he had heard her and Oliver only hours before and had imagined it was him making her moan. He reached between her legs and rubbed her clit, and told her how he had gotten himself off imagining it was her pretty mouth around him. Hermione came again, trembling in his arms, whispering his name. She felt him jerk and spill his hot seed deep inside of her. When he finally pulled away from her he looked at her seriously.

"Come away with me," he told her. Hermione barely hesitated before nodding. She had nothing left here, she had just destroyed anything she had ever had with Oliver. Summoning a pair of pants and a jacket from the hall closet, Hermione sat down at the kitchen table and left the man upstairs a note.

I'm leaving for good my dear Oliver. I know you've always sensed that I was holding back, and you were right. You deserve someone who can give you her whole heart and not just the broken pieces that I gave you. You must know that you couldn't have loved me better, and that I am so deeply sorry to have to hurt you. We came into each other's lives suddenly and unexpectedly, and now I must leave the same way. You always said I had a gypsy heart after all.

Love,

Hermione

"How did you know?" she asked Remus on the sea cliffs as they watched the sun come up over the stormy ocean.

"You left your diary open," he muttered softly.