Untitled
[A/N: I haven't written anything for about a month, too busy partying out wit mi homies ... :-) but now I'm back. Enjoy! It's kind of like R/H and kind of H/H ... you'll see ... please R/R!]
[Disclaimer: We all know this. I dunt own anything except for events and stuff ... get it? Aite late. :D]
A tear slowly wandered down her cheek. She raised her chin and drew herself up. My ancestry, she thought, my pride. The moonlight coursing through the sky made her skin glow with a ghostly light. For a moment he wanted to wipe the tear off her cheek and apologize a thousand times for making the tear appear. Reach out, hold her, wipe the tear away and tell her everything would be all right.
The tear splatted on the sand, leaving a small dark spot on the perfect yellow expanse.
Stand firm, he told himself. Tell her what you want to say, and leave. Leave her for good.
"How could you?" she spoke first, her voice barely above a whisper. "How could you?"
"I don't know," he said, swallowing audibly. Everything he had planned out in his head swam away and he was left stuttering, searching for an excuse. "I'm-I'm sorry. I really am. But I ..."
"You shouldn't use 'but' to start a sentence," she murmered. Smiling through her tears, but only for a second. Trying to make amends herself if he wouldn't.
He knew, but this time, he couldn't give in. "Old instincts, eh?" his voice cracked, hoarse. Mind screaming at him to apologize, to give in, and not to obey his instructions.
"The first time, it was because of the war. I understand. But the time .... I don't understand. Why? Why? Why?"
He avoided her question by countering, "You just used 'but', and you shouldn't start sentences with the same word in a row."
She smiled tentatively, uncertainly. Did he want to apologize? Or was he evading the question? "Answer me!"
There was a long pause. It was then she understood he was not apologizing. He wanted to leave her. He truly wanted to leave her this time. The air, though crisp and cool to any passerby, was strangled with thoughts and emotions between the two.
"I understand," she said, in a choked whisper. She breathed in deeply. "All right. Well, good luck on your journey." More and more tears swelled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away.
"Thank you," he said, his voice as obstructed as hers was, "for being so understanding. Thank you so very much." He clenched his jaw in an effort not to tell her all that had happened and why he was doing this. He also clenched it in an effort not to cry.
He took her hand, kissed it longer than necessary, and left.
She stood there, watching him go, watching him walk down towards the shiny onyx black limo waiting there for him, watched him open the door, watched the slender legs encased in sheer black pantyhose and shining four-inch stilettos wrap themselves around his. The door shut and the car pulled away. As it left, she saw Harry's face appear at the window and saw the look he had in his eyes. She would always remember it, but at that moment she had not yet interpreted what it meant.
She was not angry. She just stood there, empty. Void of emotion. Then, five minutes later, she fainted.
Ron discovered her an hour later. He had decided to take a walk along the lake and ponder a bit. Upon entering a flower garden, he spied Hermione lying next to the beach. The tide had almost reached her. Even now her hand was wet, what with the waves gently washing it back and forth.
If only he could reach her in time before she was swallowed up in the vast, dark, blue water.
After sprinting over numerous fences, scratching himself on thorns, and ruining his best clothes, he reached her. By now, the water was gently flowing over her cheekbone. He picked her up and brought her back inside.
"By Dumbledore! What happened, Ron?" Seamus hurried over with a glass of champagne and Lavender on his arm. Ron looked down at Hermione. She did look a mess. Her elegant updo had come down, her makeup was smeared, and she was covered with sand and wet. He set Hermione down on a couch and Lavender hurried over to tend to her.
"What happened, Ron? Tell me everything."
"There's nothing to tell. I was out for a walk in a flower garden, saw her, went over to bring her back into the house, *ruining* my clothes in the process, and that's about it."
Seamus threw back his head, laughing. Lavender hurried back to him. "My dear, you're tipsy! Sorry about that, Ron."
Ron laughed.
***
Hermione woke up. "Where am I?" she wondered aloud.
"You're back inside. Ron found you out on the beach and brought you in. Why *did# you faint, Hermione?" Ginny bent over Hermione.
Hermione, tired of pride and family honor, started to cry. "Oh, Ginny, he did it again, he went and left me for her! Ginny, Ginny, Ginny ...."
Ginny patted Hermione's back while everyone else at the party stared. Some smiled uncertainly, others simply looked. Only one person was really concerned, and that was Ron.
Ron had loved her ever since he could remember. It was just that Hermione never knew, and Ron could never admit it to her.
***
Hermione was back in her villa. She had just been reviewing her last case and had been writing a series of questions to ask the defendent, and the next court meeting was tomorrow. Sipping a cup of mint tea, she sighed, and thought of Harry once more. The flames danced merrily in the fireplace, a dazzling mix of red and orange and yellow.
Suddenly an owl zoomed through her living room window. He landed on Hermione's armchair, dropped off his parcel, and flew back out. Hermione opened the parcel, expecting it to be some more law documents for her to review. Instead she drew out a red rose, still wet with dew. Hermione peered back into the envelope. It was completely dry.
Mystified, she inspected the rose more carefully. It wasn't a real rose, simply glass blown, and enchanted to feel like a real one. She tentatively touched a dewdrop. Her finger wasn't even wet.
Yet roses like these were extremely expensive. Who would send this? She looked it over once more, running her delicate fingertips over the stem. She felt something engraved there. Placing the rose carefully in her lap, she took out her magnifying glass and looked.
Even with the glass, the lettering was small.
Hermione, the one that makes the earth go round
The sun glow bright and the moon gleam
The one who has my heart bound
Hermione, you must-
She stopped reading. If it said "forgive" then it had to be from Harry. If it said ... if it said something like, "know I love you", then it would be from Ron or Draco or someone else. Strangely, she felt herself hoping it was Ron.
In her reverie, she had not noticed the dark shadow creeping up behind her, wrapping itself around her, and herself being borne through the air. When she realized she was flying over London, still holding the mystery fellow's rose, she gave a shriek and fainted.
***
[A/N: R/R! If I get enough reviews, I might write another one to continue this ... if you want to know what I think of this fic myself *I'd* think it was pretty boring but anyway ... ;-) But people have different views. Hehe soooooooo]
[A/N: I haven't written anything for about a month, too busy partying out wit mi homies ... :-) but now I'm back. Enjoy! It's kind of like R/H and kind of H/H ... you'll see ... please R/R!]
[Disclaimer: We all know this. I dunt own anything except for events and stuff ... get it? Aite late. :D]
A tear slowly wandered down her cheek. She raised her chin and drew herself up. My ancestry, she thought, my pride. The moonlight coursing through the sky made her skin glow with a ghostly light. For a moment he wanted to wipe the tear off her cheek and apologize a thousand times for making the tear appear. Reach out, hold her, wipe the tear away and tell her everything would be all right.
The tear splatted on the sand, leaving a small dark spot on the perfect yellow expanse.
Stand firm, he told himself. Tell her what you want to say, and leave. Leave her for good.
"How could you?" she spoke first, her voice barely above a whisper. "How could you?"
"I don't know," he said, swallowing audibly. Everything he had planned out in his head swam away and he was left stuttering, searching for an excuse. "I'm-I'm sorry. I really am. But I ..."
"You shouldn't use 'but' to start a sentence," she murmered. Smiling through her tears, but only for a second. Trying to make amends herself if he wouldn't.
He knew, but this time, he couldn't give in. "Old instincts, eh?" his voice cracked, hoarse. Mind screaming at him to apologize, to give in, and not to obey his instructions.
"The first time, it was because of the war. I understand. But the time .... I don't understand. Why? Why? Why?"
He avoided her question by countering, "You just used 'but', and you shouldn't start sentences with the same word in a row."
She smiled tentatively, uncertainly. Did he want to apologize? Or was he evading the question? "Answer me!"
There was a long pause. It was then she understood he was not apologizing. He wanted to leave her. He truly wanted to leave her this time. The air, though crisp and cool to any passerby, was strangled with thoughts and emotions between the two.
"I understand," she said, in a choked whisper. She breathed in deeply. "All right. Well, good luck on your journey." More and more tears swelled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away.
"Thank you," he said, his voice as obstructed as hers was, "for being so understanding. Thank you so very much." He clenched his jaw in an effort not to tell her all that had happened and why he was doing this. He also clenched it in an effort not to cry.
He took her hand, kissed it longer than necessary, and left.
She stood there, watching him go, watching him walk down towards the shiny onyx black limo waiting there for him, watched him open the door, watched the slender legs encased in sheer black pantyhose and shining four-inch stilettos wrap themselves around his. The door shut and the car pulled away. As it left, she saw Harry's face appear at the window and saw the look he had in his eyes. She would always remember it, but at that moment she had not yet interpreted what it meant.
She was not angry. She just stood there, empty. Void of emotion. Then, five minutes later, she fainted.
Ron discovered her an hour later. He had decided to take a walk along the lake and ponder a bit. Upon entering a flower garden, he spied Hermione lying next to the beach. The tide had almost reached her. Even now her hand was wet, what with the waves gently washing it back and forth.
If only he could reach her in time before she was swallowed up in the vast, dark, blue water.
After sprinting over numerous fences, scratching himself on thorns, and ruining his best clothes, he reached her. By now, the water was gently flowing over her cheekbone. He picked her up and brought her back inside.
"By Dumbledore! What happened, Ron?" Seamus hurried over with a glass of champagne and Lavender on his arm. Ron looked down at Hermione. She did look a mess. Her elegant updo had come down, her makeup was smeared, and she was covered with sand and wet. He set Hermione down on a couch and Lavender hurried over to tend to her.
"What happened, Ron? Tell me everything."
"There's nothing to tell. I was out for a walk in a flower garden, saw her, went over to bring her back into the house, *ruining* my clothes in the process, and that's about it."
Seamus threw back his head, laughing. Lavender hurried back to him. "My dear, you're tipsy! Sorry about that, Ron."
Ron laughed.
***
Hermione woke up. "Where am I?" she wondered aloud.
"You're back inside. Ron found you out on the beach and brought you in. Why *did# you faint, Hermione?" Ginny bent over Hermione.
Hermione, tired of pride and family honor, started to cry. "Oh, Ginny, he did it again, he went and left me for her! Ginny, Ginny, Ginny ...."
Ginny patted Hermione's back while everyone else at the party stared. Some smiled uncertainly, others simply looked. Only one person was really concerned, and that was Ron.
Ron had loved her ever since he could remember. It was just that Hermione never knew, and Ron could never admit it to her.
***
Hermione was back in her villa. She had just been reviewing her last case and had been writing a series of questions to ask the defendent, and the next court meeting was tomorrow. Sipping a cup of mint tea, she sighed, and thought of Harry once more. The flames danced merrily in the fireplace, a dazzling mix of red and orange and yellow.
Suddenly an owl zoomed through her living room window. He landed on Hermione's armchair, dropped off his parcel, and flew back out. Hermione opened the parcel, expecting it to be some more law documents for her to review. Instead she drew out a red rose, still wet with dew. Hermione peered back into the envelope. It was completely dry.
Mystified, she inspected the rose more carefully. It wasn't a real rose, simply glass blown, and enchanted to feel like a real one. She tentatively touched a dewdrop. Her finger wasn't even wet.
Yet roses like these were extremely expensive. Who would send this? She looked it over once more, running her delicate fingertips over the stem. She felt something engraved there. Placing the rose carefully in her lap, she took out her magnifying glass and looked.
Even with the glass, the lettering was small.
Hermione, the one that makes the earth go round
The sun glow bright and the moon gleam
The one who has my heart bound
Hermione, you must-
She stopped reading. If it said "forgive" then it had to be from Harry. If it said ... if it said something like, "know I love you", then it would be from Ron or Draco or someone else. Strangely, she felt herself hoping it was Ron.
In her reverie, she had not noticed the dark shadow creeping up behind her, wrapping itself around her, and herself being borne through the air. When she realized she was flying over London, still holding the mystery fellow's rose, she gave a shriek and fainted.
***
[A/N: R/R! If I get enough reviews, I might write another one to continue this ... if you want to know what I think of this fic myself *I'd* think it was pretty boring but anyway ... ;-) But people have different views. Hehe soooooooo]