Prolouge
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Summary: Looking back on the ten years after leaving Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione reflect on the changes in their lives. Please, R/R!
Rating: R
Disclaimer:This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
There was something about the man walking down the street that made passers-by stop and stare. This something about him; it radiated from his very skin. He was tall, just over six feet, with a lean frame, muscular and defined. His startling green eyes pierced through the onlooker and his hair flopped just right on his head, creating a clean, yet slightly wild look. He made men cower, yet respect him and women melted at the sexuality that seeped from him, causing hearts to flutter and heat to rise.
The scar on his forehead was light now, and barely noticeable, thanks to the fall of his ebony hair. He preferred it that way. He ran a hand through his dishevelled cut as he walked through the golden, circular doors of Snitch! Enterprises. The security guard at the entrance nodded, keeping his head slightly bowed as Harry Potter strode past. A receptionist smiled meekly at him and melted as he grinned back.
"Morning Persephone."
"Good morning, Mr. Potter."
He walked briskly to the bank of elevators, all plated in gold. Whipping a small card attached to a lanyard from his coat pocket, he swiped it once and the doors of the farthest elevator opened. He went to them and stepped inside, leaning against the far wall as the door closed behind him.
He'd built Snitch! on his own back, starting with the funds left by his parents and placing them in some sound investments. The technological side was controlled by one Draco Malfoy, whom Harry despised with a passion that had not waned since that day in Diagon Alley when he was just eleven years old. However, the man knew his technology and Harry knew that he was a good investor, though a risk taker. They had managed to set aside their animosity to create a strong empire, composed of hundreds of businesses, both in the wizarding and muggle worlds.
The doors opened, pulling him from his thoughts. He was immediately accosted by Parvati Patil, his secretary for nearly six years. "Harry, you have a meeting with the Board of Directors in ten minutes. There are three messages on your desk, one from Hermione Granger, one from Sirius and one from your Aunt Petunia."
"Anything else?" he asked, flipping through a file that she handed him.
"You're having lunch with the Minister of Magic and, erm..."
"What?"
"She's in there."
He didn't try to hide his groan, but forged ahead into his office. He did try to hide his sharp intake of air upon seeing those long legs ending in delicate feet, clad in a sexy pair of red stilettos that weren't for day wear. He trailed up the legs until they disappeared under the hem of a black, swishy dress. Shapely hips, slender stomach, firm breasts and vibrant flame coloured hair. Oh, how he loved to hate her.
"Virginia."
"Oh, Harry, stop all that nonsense."
"Why are you here?"
"What? I'm not allowed to pay my husband a visit?"
"Ex husband, and no, you're not. I have work to do, and you like to waste my time."
"Oh, bother, you're not any fun. What happened to the man I married? You used to be a great lover. Walks in the park, weekends away, trips to New York City, Paris, Rome, and all that great sex. What happened to you?"
"Someone had to pay for it all. So, I grew up, speaking of which, are you planning on doing that anytime soon?"
"What fun would that be?"
"Gee, I really don't know, Ginny. Why are you here again?"
"I have a favour to ask of you."
"No, I'm not interested."
"But, Harry..." she said, sticking out her lower lip.
"No, Virginia. I won't do it, whatever it is."
"Hermione called me today."
She'd struck gold and she knew it. He turned his head towards her. "And?"
"She wants us to come for dinner at the Burrow next week."
"Us?"
"Yes, you and me."
"Ah, forget to mention that we're divorced?"
"We're separated. Besides, there's always a chance of reconciliation." She flashed him her sexiest smile and moved closer to him, gently placing her hands on his shoulders.
He shrugged, taking her hands in his own and pulling them from his shoulders, before dropping them away from him. "Not on your life, kiddo," he took a breath, weighing his options, "Alright, I'll do it."
"Great, see you at eight, Wednesday night."
"Right."
"Later, love!" she said with a flourish as she hurried from his office, sashaying her hips as she went.
"Parvati!"
"What?" came a soft voice.
"Cancel all my appointments."
She was floating on a softly rocking hammock. The sky was a beautiful sapphire blue and there wasn't a cloud in sight. The white, warm sand stretched towards the turquoise water, and they met in a soft collision of earth and water. She breathed the heavenly sea air and felt strong, tan arms tighten around her waste. "Hermione..."
"Hmmm?"
"Hermione."
"Yes..."
"Hermione! Wake up!"
She sat up startled and looked into blue eyes, much duller than the sky from her dream. Her gaze widened to include the freckled face and the red hair of Ron Weasley, her boyfriend. Yes, her boyfriend, there was no way she'd ever marry him, not when her heart was elsewhere. Her brain and body were here, in his bed, in his arms, but her heart and soul wandered, linked to another's by some inexplicable, unbreakable bond.
"You have to get up and go down to help mum."
"Oh, right, the dinner."
"Yes, the dinner. It's three o'clock in the afternoon. Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm fine; I'll be done in twenty minutes, a half hour at the most."
"Ok, I'll see you downstairs." He kissed her lightly on the lips and sauntered from the room.
She got out of the large bed that they had squeezed into the room. Even after she'd taken down all the Chudley Cannons paraphernalia and expanded the room with some nifty little spells, they'd had to cram all her books, her heavy desk, and the large bed into the space. A soft, squishy chair completed the room and Hermione felt distinctly suffocated as she looked at it. How had this become her life? She was a doctor, for Merlin's sake! Why was she living with her boyfriend and his parents? Because you love him of course, and he wouldn't let you pay for a house.
That's right. Ron "The Man" Weasley had refused to allow her to purchase a home for them and had insisted she move in with him--with them. Never in a million years did she think the Burrow would be home.
The mulled mead couldn't flow fast enough for Harry's tastes. Ginny kept snaking her arm through his and Hermione was sulking a corner, looking stunning in her gloom. The stormy weather matched his conflicted emotions. He was angry at being coerced here by Ginny, who definitely had ulterior motives, he was thrilled to see the Weasleys, because even though he despised their only daughter, he adored the family, and he was reluctant, yet secretly very content to be in the same room as Hermione. She hadn't said two words to him the entire night, and by the looks of things, didn't plan on it either.
"Ahem! Excuse me! Everyone settle down! Please!" called Molly Weasley, from her spot near the head of the table, where Arthur was stationed. "Ginny has an announcement."
Luckily, she was seated with her parents and Harry had forgone her charms for most of the actual sit down dinner. She cleared her throat and looked around, making sure she had everyone's attention.
"I have some very exciting news. Today, I visited my doctor and found out the best thing that has ever happened to me-- to us. Harry and I are going to have a baby."
Cheers erupted as Harry's jaw hit the floor. Catching himself, he stood up abruptly, knocking over his goblet.
"Ginny, how can you be pregnant?"
Silence followed his shouted question. She looked at him, her smile only wavering slightly.
"Harry, I should hardly have to explain that to you, of all people."
He didn't take her bait. "No, really. You haven't slept in my bed in six months. In fact, you haven't been in my house in five months. How can we be having a baby when we're divorcing?"
It was Arthur's turn to stand up. "Now see here!"
"No! You see here... she's lying to you. We're getting a divorce, she's not pregnant, at least not with my child, but you may want to consult Malfoy on that one and I most certainly will not sit down, Molly," he addressed her, already having seen the words forming in her mouth.
A crash of thunder sounded outside and the lights in the house flickered, before going out completely.
"Lumos." Hermione's wand flared up and she looked around the room. Molly was now standing, having turned her glare towards Arthur.
"We'll get Muggle electricity! Time to move into the new world! He says..." she trailed off her mocking tone and began shaking her head in disgust.
"Molly, have you any candles?" asked Harry, having calmed himself slightly.
"They're all down in the cellar. I'll summon them."
"No, if you don't mind, I'll walk down and get them," he offered, already walking towards the cellar door.
"Harry, wait, you'll never find them. I'll go with you." It was the first time Hermione had addressed him all night.
He nodded and turned to continue his journey down the dark stairs, his wand out and illuminated.
She followed closely behind as they walked down the dark, deep, damp stairs. After a few slippery steps, he felt her hand grasp onto the back of his shirt and he reached back to hold her hand. They reached the bottom of the steps without any serious injuries or falls. Hermione pointed towards a door and Harry led them through it. His wand illuminated a small storage closet, brimming with knick-knacks and other forgotten treasures. They searched the shelves, eventually stumbling upon candles.
"Here we are. I guess we can go back up then."
"Harry, there's a reason I wanted to come down here."
He looked at her full in the face, as he hadn't done in years. The stark sadness mixed with raw passion to create a look of deep yearning her eyes that caused his heart to skip. "What is it?"
She bowed her head and took a step back from him, as he had drawn closer to her in the mere milliseconds it took for him to respond. As she stepped back, she tripped on a box that was behind her and fell backwards into the door. The slam echoed in the tiny room. Whatever she had been meaning to say was forgotten as Harry rushed to her.
"Are you ok?"
"Yes, just help me up."
He did so and as soon as she was on her feet she rushed towards the now shut door. Tugging on the handle, she let on an exasperated sigh. "We're locked in!"
"Of course we're not locked in. Are you or are you not a witch?"
"Yes, I'm a bloody witch, but a witch without her wand!"
"Then we can apparate out."
She considered this for a moment. "Actually, we can't. The Burrow still has the anti-Apparition charms on it from the war."
"You've got to be joking. Maybe we should call for help."
"Can't we just talk? This is the longest I've been around you in over eight years."
He winced; he was the last person to forget their past. "Alright, what did you want to say?"
She opened her mouth and paused, taking a deep breath before beginning. "Why are you divorcing her?"
"It's the red hair."
"No, really, why are you divorcing her?"
"I guess for a million reasons. She's difficult to live with, spends all of my money, cheats on me, and is a downright miserable human being. And besides, I've really never been a fan of red hair; I guess I've always preferred brunettes."
The meanings of his words were not missed and she turned her face to meet his gaze. There was a heat smouldering in those emerald eyes that she had not forgotten. He looked at her, searching her face for some clue as to why they were having this conversation.
His eyes roamed her heart shaped face, taking in her lips. They weren't pouty like Ginny's, but they were full and sumptuous. Her eyes were brown, but not typically so. They were a deep, rich brown, highlighted by tiny flecks of gold and green. He had missed gazing into those eyes; something in them held him and captivated him.
He reached up and tucked a piece of her wavy brown hair behind her ear, allowing his fingers to linger in the soft, silky tresses. He trailed his fingers down her face to lightly grasp her chin. Pulling her towards him, he whispered, "Do you know how much I've missed you?"
She allowed him to kiss her, once. She drank in the long withheld taste of him, his sweetness reviving something she thought was long lost.
"Harry, we can't do this. Ron-"
"Why did you ever run to Ron?"
"You'd left! Disappeared to parts unknown and you made it perfectly clear that you didn't want to be with me anymore. Then you come back nearly two years later, holding in your arms none other than Miss Virginia Weasley, or rather Mrs. Virginia Potter."
"You refused to marry me Hermione! What did you expect?"
"Certainly not that you'd run to the arms of my best friend!"
"You went to Ron!"
"You'd leave me eighteen months prior to when I turned to Ron. And he never knew!"
"You never told Ron about us?"
"There was never any reason to."
"How did he not know? We carried on for nearly two years."
"I don't know. It's not like we ever told anyone. No one knew, and no one knows now."
"Hermione..." he trailed off, yearning to ask her the question that had been on his mind when she had turned him down eight years ago.
"Yes, Harry?" she said, barely audible.
"Do you still love me?"
The instances turned into moments, which turned into seconds. After a few minutes, Harry thought he was gong to die of anticipation.
"I never stopped."
He found he was still holding her hand and gave it a light squeeze. She squeezed back. Faster than you could say 'Quidditch', they had flung themselves into one another's arms and were kissing with eight years worth of pent up anger, love and passion. Every kiss betrayed the hurt the other had caused. Every kiss was punctuated with feelings of love that they had found nowhere else.
"Harry... I-"
"Yes, love?"
"I lied."
He stopped in the middle of nibbling her ear and gently released the back of her bra, which he had just begun to unfasten. "About what?"
"There are no apparition charms. I just said that so that you would stay. And besides, the door isn't really locked."
He laughed, "You could have just said you wanted to talk."
"But it seemed so much sexier this way."
"Right then. Where to? I can take you anywhere in the world."
"I want to go to the Caymans again."
"Do you remember that place on the beach where we first..."
"I couldn't ever forget it."
"Meet me there."
She kissed him soundly on the lips before taking his hands in hers. Together, they apparated to the grove of palm trees that they had discovered on their first trip together. It was a tucked away behind an outcropping of rocks. The old hammock was still there, just as it had been that day. It was older now and looked more worn, but Hermione took deep breaths of the salty sea air and felt as if not a day had passed.
The hurt melted away as her feet touched the warm sand and the anger passed as the waves crashed in the distance. As the moon rose in the night sky, so did her long hidden love. As they met on the sands of their old passion, she felt his strong arms around her, resurfacing long forgotten memories. Oh yes, she remembered his touch, but memory could do it no justice.
Their lips met, with less violence and crushing before, but, if possible, more passion. His kisses lingered longer and he seemed less urgent.
She traced her fingers down his back, loving the tiny, pleasurable sensations from his fingertips that were slowly making their way around her body. She sighed against him. There was something about Harry, something that was home.
He loved to kiss her. There was nothing that Harry had ever known that was like her kisses. They were soft and yielding, meeting his for every degree of passion. He groaned against her sweet lips as she untucked his white shirt and began slowly unbuttoning it. There was something agonizing about the speed with which she was undressing him and he felt his hands moving to unzip her dress just as quickly.
Within minutes their clothes were separated from their bodies. He had greatly missed the feeling of her flesh. His hands roamed her body, absorbing the sexy curves of her body. Ginny had been long and slender, but Hermione enjoyed all the womanly curves that Harry so deeply desired. The shape and feeling of her body seared every nerve in his body. For the first time in eight years, Harry was alive.
"Do you think we ought to go back?"
He was silent for several moments before he sat up and pulled her close to him. "No, Hermione, I think we need to do anything but go back. There is no going back, we can only go forward, my love, and we must never look back."