Disclaimer: I do not own any canon characters or situations in the Harry Potter Universe; nor am I paid for this. I just play in their world in no small thanks to Rowling's generosity.
Warnings: Story content contains strong language, violence, and graphic sexual scenes.
A/N: Sorry for the delay! My computer got lost in a box in the move, but I have found it and we shall move forward! Enjoy loveys! xoxo
Hermione sat quietly on the slightly thread-bare carpet decorated with swirling patterns of color on her bedroom floor tinkering with the somewhat busted magical radio that had belonged to Ron. She had attempted sleep earlier on, but ultimately had awoken from her restless sleep overwhelmed with boredom and an incurable itch to do something – anything. With achy limbs, she fisted the fabric of her blanket and wrapped it closer around her body as a slight chill wracked her body. She knew she only had herself to blame as she had absolutely refused to leave the bath until every inch of her skin had been scrubbed over twice and her tears of frustration had dried. With a slight sniffle – her vision blurring causing the edges of the radio to haze – her mind began to shuffle through the recent events.
She should have been prepared for this possibility. How could she have not seen this as a possible outcome? Granted, she had assumed the twit had passed to the next life; but she was always one to prepare for the unexpected. He was a truly unexpected outcome. How was it even possible that she could come face to face with him again? Face the man who knocked the very breath from her lungs and the strength from her knees? He had definitely transitioned from the overly-scrawny teenage boy he had been into the well-defined man he was now. He was not bulky by any means. His frame would forever be of the leaner sort; but, she had to admit, she much preferred the aesthetics of that form compared to the overly hulky body of say Viktor Krum. She was not so angry with him to ignore that he was beginning to light the flames within her soul as he once did. What frightened her most was that he hadn't even been back in her life for two complete days and he was already beginning to affect her. She wished she could blame the ghosts of attraction that remained behind to haunt her; but, she knew she had never quite left him behind that morning she awoke to find him missing, a note left in his stead.
She still had the note to this day, tucked within the deep confines of her purse, almost forgotten, but never quite. She sighed as she pulled her purse closer and let her arm dive into the darkness. Her hand, working on what appeared to be a form of muscle memory, found the folded piece of paper within a minute or two and slowly withdrew from the beaded bag. Lifting her wand, she whispered a quiet Lumos, the tip of the wood emitting a soft bulb of light, as she looked down upon the yellowing parchment. Lines creased the page, the ink slightly faded.
Amber eyes followed the script of flowing letters, he surprisingly had neat handwriting; which ultimately had been a blessing compared to the nearly incomprehensible scrawl of her two best friends. She swallowed past the new lump forming in her throat and held the tip of her wand closer to the page.
I know you are confused as to why I am not there, with my arms wrapped tightly around you, to wish you a good morning.
I know you have a hundred questions running rampant through that brilliant mind of yours and I hope to ease your worries.
Do you remember the first time we met? Not the petty little arguments between our Houses in our younger years; but, the first time we truly saw one another. I do. It was out by that scrawny little tree near the Black Lake. You had fallen asleep, book slumped over on your chest, drool leaking from the corner of your mouth and into your hair. You had been talking in your sleep – something rather unintelligible about your elfish welfare cult. I had laughed and you startled. You opened those big brown eyes of yours, still lit with innocence, and stared up at me with a small smile. Unfortunately that smile changed and you launched into a lecture about spying on people – I still have a small mark on my shin thanks to the heel of your shoe. That was the first moment that I saw you. That I looked past that bushy hair of yours, past the pretentious attitude, and saw the real you. I would like to say that is the very moment I started falling for you.
We have made so many memories in this past year, ones that I shall never forget – the first time your hand brushed against mine, the first time my lips loved yours, the first time you fell asleep against me – your head resting heavily on my shoulder. Last night. I want you to know that last night was everything I'd hoped and dreamed it would be.
Those memories will forever burn within my mind and soul, keeping you close to me when I can't physically be next to you. This is something I have to do. It is the Fates' plan to have me take this path. Written since the day I drew my first breath. You cannot save me from this, but I can save you. Save you from the humiliation and pain you would endure married to someone as cowardly as me. Simply, save you. I will bitterly continue on with my existence, but know that I plan to be completely selfish with the amazing gift your love is, using it to help me through my darkest days.
So, this is my farewell.
My Hermione.
My Otter.
I love you.
Theo
Hermione refolded the letter as she had done so many times before and tucked it away in her purse. Her eyes had long dried from the emotional strings the letter would once pull, but she held enough frustration and irritation within her the end of her wand sparked violently before going out. It would seem absence did indeed make the heart grow fonder. She launched her wand across the room and dug the heel of her palms into her eyes. Why had nothing changed since their last encounter? The quick pitter-patter of her heart when he was near, the simple joy in irritating him to bits, for Merlin's sake even that letter still held some power over her. It's not like he had been the last lover she had ever taken. There had been others; but, for whatever reason, he remained to stick around – to steal part of her heart in a way none of the others had.
Hermione grunted and dismissed her thoughts and returned her attention back to the radio. It didn't matter how her body was betraying her now, it wasn't going to happen again. They had both changed. He for the better it seemed and she, well, not so much. With a heave, she flopped herself onto her back and flung her arms across her eyes. Just as she was apparently on the edge of sleep, a knock sounded at the door. She ignored it. Shifting her bum to get a bit more comfortable on the floor – why she didn't just move to the bed was beyond her – she sighed in content.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"What?" she growled, her eyes squinting in irritation in the general direction of the door.
"I have to go for a bit. I've left some dinner by your door."
Hermione tried to hold back the bite of sarcasm that was clawing at her tongue like a rabid beast and succeeded, mostly. "Why? Did Daddy call? Best run off and be a good boy then."
"No, he didn't. For your information I need to run to pick up a few items. That is, if you'd like to continue to eat."
Hermione shrugged her shoulders carefully, feeling the small threads brush against the cotton covering her shoulders, before remembering he couldn't see her. "Whatever. It's not like I haven't been without before." Silence met her response and she sighed, "Alright, be safe."
She could hear him chuckle and she was seconds away from throwing something, anything. "Oh you do care. I'm touched. Alright, I should return in a couple of hours. Feel free to leave this bedroom of yours and explore if you wish; but the grounds are Unplottable so don't leave them."
"Yeah, okay."
She heard his retreating footsteps begin to peter off before rushing back. "Oh, one last thing, as a favor to me please stay out of my room. I know it's hard to control your curious tendencies, but, well, do try your best. I'll be back."
Hermione listened for the pop of disapparition and laid there for a few more minutes before darting up off the floor and out the door, nearly colliding with the actual plate of food Theo had indeed left. She quickly picked it up and began to eat bits of it as she padded around the cottage in her socked feet – a pair on loan from Theo as was much of her current outfit. As she munched on some buttered toast she looked through the shelves of books that lined one of the spare bedrooms. All muggle it seemed, which was fitting seeing as the previous owners were muggles themselves. With a small smile, she let her non-greasy fingers dance across the aged spines and sighed. She had books with her, but none were for simple recreational reading. She would definitely have the time to read one, or thirty, of these before she moved on. Leaving the room with a sense of forlorn, she stopped by the small kitchen and set her plate in the sink. She moved on towards the living room, noting it only had a small furniture set and a stone fireplace. She continued on her exploration until she came to a closed door. Figuring it was Theo's room she walked forward, slightly knocked back by the warning of the wards.
With brows furrowed and her eyes squinting she turned on her heel and marched back to her room. Turning on a lamp she looked around and found her wand lying on the floor against the wall. She quickly picked it up and jogged back to her destination. With her shoulders set in determination, her wand held loosely in her hand, she began to unravel the wards.
She would find out what, exactly, he was hiding in there.
