Harry watched Hermione go, unable to comprehend what had just happened. He stared after her, still standing beside the table. Finally, when he could see her no longer, he sunk back into the chair. A waiter came by and Harry ordered another coffee. He had a feeling he would be staying for awhile.
People passed by the window and Harry watched them with unfocused eyes. He had his chin cupped in his hand and was biting his nails without even realizing that he was doing it. He jumped as the waiter set his coffee down in front of him.
You have no idea what you're doing, said a voice in his head. Harry hated himself for it, but he silently agreed. He watched the steam rise from the mug in front of him, mesmerized by the swirling vapor. But there are some things that I do know, he told himself. I kissed Hermione. I used to love Hermione. I have a kid on the way. I love Lauren.
Do I though?
Harry liked to think that he did. Actually, he didn't really like to think about it at all. He sighed, running his hands through his hair. The face on his watch read three-thirty.
This was going to be one hell of a long night.
XxXxX
While Hermione had been inside with Harry, dark rain clouds replaced the bright, blue skies. She meandered down the street, lost in the milling crowd. She would not think about Harry.
A single raindrop hit her check and ran down the side of her face. Another followed, and another. Soon she was one of the only people left on the sidewalk; everyone else had run inside to escape the rain.
The rain kept falling and showed no signs of letting up. Hermione didn't care though. She didn't care that her shirt was plastered to her body, her hair slicked against her neck, her shoes squishing in the puddles. She simply didn't care.
An out-of-date dummy in one of the storefront windows caught her eye. The woman's hair was orange and frizzy, her clothes faded and ugly. Hermione sighed.
Seven years was a long time to spend on one thing, only to let it go.
Healing had always interested her, especially the Muggle's way of doing it. The school in the States promised courses in Healing and Nursing, so it seemed too good to be true.
It was.
She had only seen the man a few times during her stay in the States, but those few times were enough to terrify her. Finally he had pushed her too far during one of his visits, hurting her not only physically but mentally as well. She had packed up and left.
She didn't have any friends in the States anyway. No one would miss her. No one would even notice that she was gone.
Which was probably the reason she never told anyone what was going on with the man, why she never got help. There was no one to go to.
But she didn't want to think about that now.
So what was there to think about?
Harry? His kiss had been far too unexpected and enjoyable for comfort. So, no, Harry was not a good thing to think about right now either.
Hermione moved on to the next window. The shop was filled with beautiful gowns and dresses of all colors and shapes. She cupped her hands over a small section of the glass to rid it of the glare and looked inside, picturing herself wearing each and every one of the fairytale dresses.
But why can't I think about Harry? she asked herself.
Because you tend to ignore your true feelings, a voice answered.
I do not!
The voice didn't answer.
Okay, well maybe sometimes. Since Harry left. But I don't feel like thinking about him right now.
Once again the voice said nothing.
And Hermione realized something.
The voice was right.
XxXxX
Lauren Potter was waiting.
She didn't like waiting yet she had been doing just that since she got home from the office. The girls were long since picked up from preschool and dinner had been ready nearly two hours ago. It was now after eight.
And she was sick of waiting.
Lauren wasn't stupid. She knew that there was more to Hermione Granger than met the eye. It was easy to see that something had gone on between the young woman and Harry at sometime. She wasn't sure what it was, but it worried her.
Harry had always been a good husband. He was a wonderful father to Becka and Bethany. He was always there when needed, and could fix just about anything. He asked questions about her day and managed to keep a steady conversation going, but everything was always about her. She knew nothing of his life before they met.
And that caused a major fight between the two of them.
It was the only fight they ever had, but it had almost cost them their relationship. Lauren had asked to hear of Harry's school years. He refused. Lauren persisted, just wanting to know what his favorite subject had been. When he didn't answer, Lauren began to get aggravated. Harry simply would not reveal anything about himself.
So Lauren left.
She stayed with an old friend for a few days until things with Harry had calmed down. Nothing about the fight was ever mentioned again and she no longer probed for answers about his earlier years. The fight had been months ago.
But now Miss Granger was here in London and Harry was acting very differently. He spoke even less than was usual at dinner. He didn't want to make love before going to bed. He wasn't around for the girls.
And it was nearing nine o' clock and he still wasn't home.
Harry never stayed out late. He didn't have very many friends to drink with and his colleagues mostly kept to themselves. And Lauren was sure that if he was planning on staying out, he would tell her.
So where was he?
Lauren watched the second hand travel around the edge of the clock a few more times before rubbing her pregnant stomach, standing, and stretching out her back. She gathered up the girls from where they sat coloring pictures on the living room floor and took them up to bed.
When she came back downstairs, she picked up the drawings from off the floor. Immediately she could tell which picture belonged to which twin. Becka's drawing was of a purple stick-horse standing in a meadow filled with multicolored flowers. Lauren smiled and flipped to Bethany's drawing. It was titled "My Family," the 'M' in family written with three humps instead of two and the tails on both 'Y's' facing backwards.
The picture itself was simple and consisted of five stick figures of varying colors. The tallest was a man with a scribble of black hair and emerald dots for eyes. He held hands with a slightly shorter figure with straight lines of brown hair and a pink dress. Two identical girls stood with an even smaller figure supported between them. The twins and the new baby.
Lauren's eyes misted over with tears. This child was going to enter the most loving family imaginable. She placed a hand on her stomach. "You are the luckiest baby ever," she whispered quietly.
A jangle of keys informed her that Harry was home. It was well past ten.
He stumbled over a chair and threw his shoes into the corner before sinking into the couch opposite Lauren with his eyes closed. He still had not noticed her.
"Where the hell have you been?" Lauren didn't wait to hear his explanation before using coarse language. She was beyond pissed.
His eyes snapped open and he regarded her carefully before answering. "Out." He closed his eyes again and leaned his head back on the couch.
Lauren could sense the tears welling up behind her own eyes, but this time they weren't from the joy the baby brought. They were caused by Harry's disrespect. She blinked the tears away and glared at him. "I know that you were out." Her words dripped with venom. "But what the fuck were you doing?" She was shaking with anger.
"Drinking."
"Harry!" she cried. His name didn't sound human the way it ripped from her lips. He opened his eyes, surprised at her sudden outburst. The tears were streaming freely now. "Harry, I need you. I need you here. With me." She gulped in a breath of air. "I need to know what's happening. I need to know. I need to know who you are."
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Lauren couldn't stop her rant. "I don't know you, Harry. Who are you? I want to know you!" She was standing now, and well aware that her string of words didn't really make any sense, but they seemed to be having the desired effect on her husband. "I've tried, Harry. I have. You just won't let me in. Why won't you let me in?" Her hands were clenched into fists and Harry no longer looked drunk, now he was nervous. "Who are you, Harry Potter?"
Harry stood and held his arms out to her. "Lauren, I–"
Lauren collapsed forward and Harry caught her. A pain in her stomach told her that something was very wrong. "Oh, god."
A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I had really bad writer's block. I know, excuses excuses, but once school get out (which is Thursday!!) I will have tons more time to write. Thanks for all the reviews, and keep them coming!
