Reality bites

A/N: I wrote this chapter on an inspirational rush, and I hope it's good. Dare I say we are close to reaching the climax of the story? Beats me, but probably, yes. I really, really hope you enjoy this.

Disclaimer: Just the plot. Unfortunately.

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Hermione only widened her eyes and felt how her jaw clenched; her stomach doing a somersault. "Don't look too surprised. Don't look shocked or guilty." Her mind ordered her; it was just impossible. Could anyone blame her? Harry frowned but didn't say anything; patiently waiting for her answer.

Oh, what should she answer? The truth? No, no, no. If Harry did like her, as Luna had said, Hermione didn't even want to imagine how he would react. Oh sure, she was technically sixteen when she was with Sirius, but she saw no difference. But besides the age gap, Sirius was his godfather. Hermione imagined that Harry's anger would result in either the house being set on fire, or herself exploding. Maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe he can help you, Hermione... Yeh, he'll help me by kicking me out of his house.

Tears threatened to blur her eyes as Hermione looked at the table. She was desperate for help, yes, but no one could know. No one could know! No one would be able to help her... Hermione wanted to scream again; scream like she had screamed yesterday- she wanted to break things and tear them apart, shattering them mercilessly; until everything was as broken as her life. Hermione wanted to run and run and never look back; she wanted to sleep forever and never wake up-

But she wouldn't let anyone get a hold of that. She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes, and looked up at her friend. "Harry- Would you mind telling me what is that question about?" She decided to ask him, trying to keep her voice even. Harry straightened up on the chair and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Did something happen between you and him?" Harry re phrased the question. Hermione frowned and sported a scowl.

"What is that supposed to mean, Harry? Goodness, what are you implying?" Hermione responded in outraged tones; hoping that the mask wouldn't fail. You're strong. You can do this.

"It's just- I never knew he meant so much to you; and I thought-"

"Do you realize that you're calling Sirius a paedophile? And calling me a pervert?" Hermione wanted to know. She hated this; she hated lying to Harry; she loathed herself so much for making him feel guilty about a truth, a fact. Anger dripped from every pore in her body, but it was directed at herself. Hermione felt so heartless, so dirty; she was a monster... Harry looked away, and Hermione didn't miss his shiny eyes.

Hurt him, Hermione. Hurt him to save him from you. You and your lack of soul.

"I'm- I'm sorry," Harry finally answered in a small voice. Hermione felt that stupid stinging sensation in her eyes again. She wanted to shake Harry by the shoulders and tell him not to believe her anymore; that she was the one at fault, not him; Hermione wanted to tell him to forget that she ever lived, for she could not reach for human affection ever again. She just wanted... wanted to give it all up, once and for all, and forever.

"Don't be. I can understand that my attitude allows people to think such things. It's alright, Harry," Hermione tried; smiling weakly at him. Harry didn't look at her again, and she practically heard her heart breaking.

Well, the deed is done. He was the last one. Now you're as alone as you wanted to be. You know that this is not right; you don't want to be alone: you're too afraid to let someone know that you can't make it on your own.

Without really thinking, Hermione slammed her forehead against the table, in a feeble attempt to make that voice stop. Just what she needed; she was a schizoid now. Harry glanced at her, wide eyed and startled, but Hermione didn't care. Though her eyes watered and her forehead felt on fire...

The sadness had decently receded.

Hermione stood up and went to look at the world outside through the window; as Harry silently moved to continue to prepare dinner. She recalled what she had said to Harry- Sirius had been a paedophile, then? Her sight blurred at this. She... She had turned him into one... She had never realized this- Never had put down in words. Hermione had turned Sirius into a paedophile. The strength of those words nearly knocked her off her feet.

That only helped to get her even more depressed.

Merlin, what had she done? What had driven her to do the things she had done? When had her life escaped her control? Hermione suddenly felt as if she was going to be sick. She covered her mouth and closed her eyes; praying that Harry hadn't noticed anything. Hermione tried to breathe, and the feeling of sickness intensified. She rested the palm of her hand on the cool glass of the window.

Christmas was around the corner... Hermione suddenly realized that she didn't want to be part of it.

"Hermione? Are you alright?" Harry suddenly asked, trying to catch a glimpse of her face. She looked nearly green.

"I'm going to be sick," she announced with a hoarse voice, turning around and running towards the nearest bathroom. She opened the door and merely had time to turn on the lights before she had to crouch over the toilet to throw up. Hermione heavily sat on the cool tiles, shaking and crying in disgust, as the waves of nausea washed over her. As she breathed deeply she looked at the bathroom she found herself in.

-Flashback-

"We'll get- we'll get caught," she breathed, trying not to pay attention to what his lips were doing to the skin under her earlobe. She'd never be able to resist his soft kisses.

"Don't worry about that now," he whispered, leaving a trail of wet kisses down to her neck, nibbling on it. She let out a low whimper, tilting her head back to allow him more room.

Resist? Who talked about resisting? Let everyone else be damned.

Was it just her or someone had turned on a heater inside that tight bathroom? Merlin. Her eyes closed as she felt his hands roam around her back and come to rest on her waist, pulling her closer to his own, at the same time pressing her against the wall, just nibbling on her neck mercilessly.

Oh, good gracious.

She let out a low moan and grabbed his cheeks, kissing him roughly and pushing him against the other wall, rubbing her whole body against his, teasing. He let out a husky growl and roughly slammed her against the opposite wall; grabbing her wrists and placing them next to her head, holding them secure with his hands, and hotly began kissing her chest.

Lord, take me now.

Trying very hard not to think about what would happen if someone happened to walk in, let alone hear something; she just decided to let go- something she didn't do very often. Maybe this was such a turn on because the danger of being found out existed; it made it all the more mysterious and dangerous... This truth just made the encounter even more passionate and desperate, though, so it wasn't as half as bad as everyone would suppose it was.

Sirius suddenly parted from her chest and breathed in deeply, concern and guilty swiftly possessing his eyes. "We have to be careful," he lisped. Hermione nodded without a word; caressing his cheek. They both knew what was in store for them if anyone were to find out. "People wouldn't understand."

-End flashback-

Hermione threw up again. She just felt so dirty, contaminated; so guilty. It was true that Sirius and her had never got really intimate (meaning he hadn't had sex with her), but she still felt as she had done something terrible. She was the one that caused all of it; it had been her choice- Oh, what had she done; what had she done? She remembered how happy she had been when she was fifteen, and now saw what life had made of her: she was reduced to someone that resorted to pills to escape from reality, which hurt like the deepest of wounds; someone who was trying to push the world aside; a girl throwing up and sobbing in a small, old bathroom, completely alone.

Hermione hit the toilet seat with her fist and shook her head. She'd have to pretend. Pretend that everything was okay. But not for her sake- for everybody else's sakes. Maybe, it would help her too. Maybe...

"Hermione, are you alright? Do you need anything?" Harry asked her, peeking through the crack of the door. Concern was itched all over his face. Hermione wished that he would forget about her soon- she was only going to hurt him.

"A glass of water wouldn't hurt," she rasped, shivering. Harry nodded and seconds after he was there, holding the glass. Hermione drank it in one huge gulp and shakily stood up from the bathroom floor; wiping her mouth with her sleeve and flushing the toilet. "Thank you, Harry," she added. Harry agreed with his head.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked. Hermione sighed and forced a smile. He's still my friend, he still likes me- he shouldn't. He shouldn't...

"Yeah. I suppose I ate something that did me no good," she invented, quickly going out of the bathroom. Just as Harry was about to speak, a knock was heard, coming from the front door. "Why, those must be Lupin and Tonks! I'll go and greet them," Hermione added in an overly cheery manner; walking towards the front door. Harry stared at her go and his brow furrowed sadly.

Where are you, Hermione? What's wrong with you? Why won't you let me help you...?

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A/N: Well, here it is. I know I said that maybe I wouldn't update until January, but I just couldn't help myself. I just love this story too much. Now it's taking a nice shape, and I can definitely say that there aren't too many chapters left until the end.

I hope that you liked this chapter. As usual, I also hope that you'll review and let me know. Bye!