This chapter is a bit longer than usual, but it dealt with some more serious story line, which I decided to bring in a little earlier than I had planned, because I felt the pace was suffering a little.

He took two glasses, and filled them up each halfway.

"So let's get started on what you have been up to since I was last in England." He asked as he sat in front of the sofa, on the floor, as opposed to on it.

"Well Harry that's a long story, you sure you want to hear it?" She asked, as she took a sip of what she had been given. She wasn't really a strong alcohol, though neither was Harry last time… She didn't expect she would drink it all, but as she began talking, she drunk some more, and settled down into a comfortable quietness, with the only sound being her recounting what had happened in her life, in great detail.

Harry never commented, as she spoke for nearly an hour. Every time she looked up she expected him to be asleep, yet he wasn't. He was always just sitting there, staring at her, listening, and savouring every minute. He had finished his drink more than once during the time she was talking, yet his concentration didn't seem to waver.

It was only after Hermione had finished talking that she had chance to reflect on how different Harry seemed. She had obviously noted changed in him, both his physical appearance and his personality, but he used to be a lot more talkative. Normally he had dominated the conversations, but now he did no such thing. He had sat in silence for an hour, until she talked herself into silence.

"What about you then Harry?" She asked finally.

"He looked up in surprise at this question."

"Sorry what?" He asked, distracted from his reverie.

"Well I told you what I had been up to, what about you. You must have done some interesting stuff in the last three years."

"No, nothing exceptional." He said, as he took a large gulp from his third glass of Jack Daniels. "There is nothing to tell."

"Nothing?" Hermione asked in disbelief. "Harry Potter, the most action packed life there is, and yet you're saying that there is nothing happened?"

"No, I didn't say nothing happened, I said there was nothing to tell. They are quite different."

Hermione suddenly felt like she had said to much. She had told him all about her job, her friends, her plans for the future, and even a reasonable amount about Adam, yet he had, within the space of thirty seconds said to her that he had nothing to share, nothing to say. She was left feeling as isolated from him as she had done before. Why was he still so cagey with her. Obviously three years hadn't bee enough. She supposed he was angry with her, and yet she knew well enough that more than that, he also hated himself.

"Ok the Harry, if you haven't had anything to tell about, them what do you plan to do in the future, when you go back to Sydney? You are going back aren't you?"

"My house is in Sydney." Was his only response, which implied an answer, without giving one.

"Ok then what are your plans?"

"I prefer not to make plans. They pressurise us to do things, to be somewhere. If we make plans and achieve them, then they seldom turn out to be as we had hoped, and if we don't achieve them we feel bad because of it, as though we have somehow failed."

"Why should we do this? I prefer to simply live. After so many didn't it's a fact I try to savour." Hermione didn't know how to respond to this pessimistic attitude.

"You drunk enough?" Hermione asked as Harry poured himself some more.

"Well I figured I might as well finish the bottle. It isn't a very social activity to drink on ones own, and I don't know when I will next have company."

"Novel way of thinking." Hermione said, as she finished the first glass, yet held onto it, so Harry couldn't offer her more. Regardless of the fact she didn't have work early tomorrow she still didn't want to drink excessively.

"So now, can I head to bed yet? It is late, and with all this darkness I'm surprised I haven't nodded off yet."

"Mmm I suppose so." Harry responded, not thinking of any other reason to keep her up. He rose to his feet, more steadily than he thought he would.

"Oh well, I will just go get you the blankets then." Hermione said as she gained her balance, before taking her wand which was lighting the room, and walking towards the doorway.

"I came for you." He spoke, breaking the silence. Hermione's heart tightened, as though it had been clasped by an icy hand. She slowly turned to face him, pityingly.

"Harry…"

"No, I'm not drunk" He replied, predicting what she would say. "All the drink does is give me the bravery to say what I want to say. I came because I needed to resolve the situation. I can't keep living without having resolution.

"That was your choice Harry."

"Perhaps, but I'm choosing now, I want to resolve things once and for all."

"Please don't start Harry. You won't gain anything; you will only regret it in the morning."

"I'm used to regret." He said, disregarding her warning. "I need to know. I spent three years waiting, though I don't know for what. All I know is that it involves you. You know how I feel…That never changed; I still feel about you, feel the same as I did back then… I still love you Hermione."

"You don't love me Harry." Hermione said with a sigh. "You love an ideal."

"Don't tell me about me, I am me!" He spoke back to her as he raised his voice. He took a step towards her, though she took a step back, almost afraid of what he would do, if not say.

"Well what do you expect Harry, You come here a week before I'm to get married, hoping for what, to stop me getting married?" She asked as she began to raise her own voice. How could Harry be so inconsiderate, he had no right to say these things?

"I expect nothing. I hope for resolution, as I said, but I expect nothing. All I know is how I feel and that I need resolution. You loved me once, and I left. I never spoke to you about it, and I regretted it. I would regret if I never told you how I felt.

"I'm getting married Harry, MARRIED! I don't know if that means anything to you, but it means I moved on. I have a life…"

"And? I had a life once, and I want it back. You know what I think Hermione; you know what the worst thought was all these years. At first I thought it wasn't the case but after two years I came to realise I still loved you. I realised, that it's not something you ever start to forget. It's not something you loose. I think that when people love each other as much as we did, or as much as I did, it never fades. They may move on, but there heart will always feel for the person they used to love."

"I think you love me Hermione…"

"You do?" Hermione asked angrily.

"Yes, I think you do."

"I don't." She said firmly. How could I after you left, and never spoke to me. Your wrong Harry, love doesn't last forever.

"No, I'm not wrong Hermione." He said, almost in fear. "It has been my only thought for three years, don't tell me I'm wrong. I know you still love me!"

"You're being irrational Harry. How could you make such claims?"

"Because I know you, and I know what I need to hear."

"What do you want of me then Harry? You come here and confess your love for me, and demand I feel the same. Is that what you expected in your head, that I would fall into your arms and we would live happily ever after?" She cried

"What do you want? Do you want me to love you?"

"NO!" He roared, before his voice fell to a hoarse whisper. "I want you to hate me."

A long silence fell between them as she tried to understand this.

"What?" She finally asked.

"I want you to hate me! Because love isn't enough. Not for me. Even if you loved me you could never give me what I want. If you told me you hated me, if I knew that was how you felt, then I could go, I could get on with my life, knowing, that I don't stand a chance."

"If I knew, that you hated me, I could stop teasing myself. I think I could be happy, maybe for the first time since I fell in love with you." He said, barely audible over the ticking of a clock on the wall, as his voice had gone from the shouting and the emotions.

"Harry…You're sick." Hermione said as a tear rolled down his cheek. "This obsessive need of yours, it's not right. You know I don't hate you, I don't think I ever could. I can't give you what you want…"

"I know…"

"You wasted so much of your love. You say you love me, and yet you want me to hate you. The only happiness you can find, is when you're hated by the one person who means the most to you. It's not right…

"I know…"

"I think you need to sleep. I will go and get blankets, and in the morning we can talk. I don't know if I can help Harry, but I really do hope you find peace…Tomorrow I will go to work, and when I come back I don't want you to be here…" She said, with each word hurting her as much as it did him. She knew how he felt, but to see someone she had loved, and did love, in such a state. It was like loosing them.

"I think you're probably right." He said after a minute, you go get the blankets…I will feel much better after a good sleep."

Hermione didn't believe him entirely, yet she couldn't stand there any longer, she turned and walked into the hallway before breaking into a run up the stairs and into her bedroom where she slammed the door and fell to her knees in an uncontrollable sobbing which shook her whole body.

Harry stood rooted for a spot, before slowly walking out of the room after her, except rather than head up the stairs he walked into the kitchen. He opened one of the drawers and took out a large black handled bread knife. He pressed the cold blade against his wrist, his hand shaking in fear. It scratched his skin, as his grip tightened, before he let it drop to the floor. He was too weak even to claim his peace.