A/N: Wow, I'm really sorry I haven't update in…um…a really long time. I've just had a lot of things to do recently and to be honest this story was not very high on my priority list. But I'm back for now. I hope I haven't lost any readers. I also hope I haven't lost track of my story…I hope I can still carry this out…
I stare at her in shock. She notices my bewildered expression but does not continue. With a hint of a smile she turns from me and makes herself comfortable at the table. The rest of the night carries on in silence.
***
I take refuge in
the endless promotional stuff I'm asked to do prior to the first issue of the
year being circulated. Interviews with print journalists and other people fill
up my days when I'm not in the office looking over amateur editorials.
When you're busy, you don't have too much time to obsess about your current
state of existence, and it suits me just fine.
Harry is also busy, as the post-holiday season starts up, along with the
Quidditch frenzy. The two of us have
reached a sort of unspoken understanding. We talk to each other over dinner, if
we're both home and have time to eat together. If not, it's no big loss. I
don't chase him around, trying to wrestle for five minutes of attention, and he
doesn't chase me around either.
It's a peculiar balance, because we're not really getting to a better place, or
a worse one. We're stagnating somewhere just short of friendship, which would
upset me were it not for the fact that two weeks ago, I didn't imagine I'd ever
want to see his face again. We're not
quite friends yet, but we're not indifferent either.
Soon I have to visit Italy to meet with sister publications. Meaning I would be going to boring 4-hour
long meetings everyday for the next several days.
Of course, that leaves him alone here without me and it's hard not to see
parallels.
"I have to go to Italy for a week." I tell him as I'm putting away
some dishes.
"Yeah. It's not so bad."
I nod and shut the cupboard.
"Come on, say
it." He insists.
"What?"
"That you're worried about leaving me here. That even though we're, well,
I don't know what we are, you're worried it'll all disappear the moment you
step out of my line of sight."
I sigh and turn to fill Bumpy and Crookshanks' food and water bowls. "Tell me I'm wrong, Harry."
"You're wrong."
I shake my head, and give Crookshanks a good petting. Then I pick up Bumpy and proceed to rub his belly. Crookshanks meowls, protesting my extra
attention to Bumpy.
"Would it make you feel better if I came along?"
"I'm not your babysitter. So, in a word: no."
He walks quickly and stands in front of me.
"What do you think, that the minute you leave, I'm going to have random
women stopping by?"
I cringe at the thought.
"No, I don't think you're just waiting for me to get out of the
house."
"I'm not."
"But, it's a consequence of what happened, that I should wonder now."
"It is."
"Then what?"
"I don't know what I can tell you other than I have no intention of making
another mistake like that one."
I nod at him.
"Hermione, do I have a second chance? I mean, have you given it to
me?"
"I...in a way, yeah." My mouth speaks on its own. I don't know what this second chance
consists of, but I'm guessing at some point I'll find out.
"Then why would I be stupid enough to put myself into a position where I'd
have to beg for a third or a fourth chance?"
"You'd never get them, Harry." I look him in the eye and he knows I'm
absolutely serious.
"I know."
"Do you?"
"Yes, without question, I know."
"I mean it. You don't get to screw up again." Or screw around.
He steps closer and kisses my forehead quickly. I feel a mixture of need and
fear coursing through my veins and I think he senses it because he steps back
just as quickly and grants me back my personal space. We stand there awkwardly for a few more seconds before I walk
away.
***
I think we both know that we'll look back on this trip as a test. It won't fix
everything but if I can show her that I'm not going to hit the sheets with the
first blonde who looks my way while Hermione is out of town, maybe it will be a
start.
She leaves with a neutral "Good-bye,
I'll be back in a week." When I'm alone
in the house, I don't want to be there. It's too quiet and empty and I don't
want to be left alone with my thoughts.
Even Bumpy's crashing noises and Crookshanks' annoyed meows can't fill
the void.
I need to talk to someone, and I'm not sure if Ron has cooled off yet. I know he's been writing to Hermione, but I
don't think it's safe yet to confront him.
Also, he made it clear that he never did what I did, so it wouldn't be
helpful to talk about it with him.
Though I'm hardly
in Lavender's good books, I find myself on her doorstep and when she opens the
door and then starts to close it in my face, I stick my foot in the space and
quickly blurt out what I came to say.
"I need you to not hate me."
She glares at me.
"It's not me that you should be worrying about."
"I'm not."
"You're not selling yourself very well here, Harry."
"I'm not worrying about you, it's Hermione. I'm thinking about Hermione.
You're her closest friend out here besides Ron and maybe if I can make you
understand…"
"I'll plead your case?" She snorts. "Try someone who hasn't
heard this story a million times."
"Haven't you ever cheated?" I ask urgently.
"Leave." She starts to close the door.
"Ow! Lavender, my foot!"
"I'm giving you two seconds to get it out of my way or I'll curse it off
if I have to." She pulls her wand
threateningly.
"Please, I don't know what else to do."
"So not only am I a last resort, but you come to my house and insult me
and then you expect me to help you worm your lying, cheating bastard self back
into my friend's life?"
I sigh.
"Look, I just want her to understand."
She shakes her head. "Harry, don't you get it? There is nothing that you
can say that will convince Hermione that what you did was okay."
"I know it's not okay!"
I take a deep breath to calm myself. "I know it's not okay. I know what I
did was horrible and there is no reason in the world that would make it
anything else."
"Then what do you want from me, exactly?"
"I don't expect you to plead my case, Lavender. Just… maybe just don't
make it worse."
She laughs sarcastically, "I didn't do this, Harry."
"I know."
"What makes you think I have so much influence with Hermione? Why not talk to Ron." A smirk starts to
form at this.
"I know she talks to you."
"Oh no," she shakes her head, "I'm not being your
go-between."
"That's not what I'm asking you!" I say, exasperated. "I just want
you to not badmouth me."
"Fine."
"Really?"
"Yeah, " she shrugs.
"I didn't think you'd be this easy," I tell her.
She gives me a look. "Harry, I don't need to run you down to Hermione.
You've done a fine enough job of that yourself."
"I'm going to win her back."
She rolls her eyes. "You just keep telling yourself that."
. . . .
I spend the time that Hermone is away coming up with a list of my own. There's
no doubt in my mind that she'll shoot it down, but I want her to know that I'll
do whatever it takes to win her back.
I don't expect her home until Sunday evening so when I arrive home after a long
day with my manager and come face to face with her in the hall, I'm shocked.
"Hi."
"Hi." She nods and goes to move past me into the living room.
"You're home."
"I'm back." It's as though she's taking care to not use the word
"home," I notice. I don't say anything about it though, instead
giving her a genuine smile.
"How was your trip?"
"Busy."
"That's good."
"Yeah."
"Did they have you doing a lot of stuff?"
"That's what the trip was for." She shakes her head. "Harry, I'm
not really in the mood to make small talk."
"Me either."
"Okay. I'm going to bed."
"Hermione?"
She turns back to me and raises her eyebrow in a silent question.
"I'm glad you're home."
"Goodnight, Harry."
. . . .
"Do you want the front page?" I ask at breakfast the next morning.
"Are you done with it?"
I shrug, "I'll read it later."
She sighs, "Don't do this, Harry."
"Do
what?"
"Go out of your way. It's not what I want."
"What do you want, Hermione?"
"I want you to stop this."
"What?"
She rolls her eyes. "I know you talked to Lavender."
I bite my tongue for a moment.
"Yeah, I did."
"You asked her to not badmouth you?"
"So?"
"So, what Lavender thinks has nothing to do with why we're not together.
Don't put her in the middle, Harry."
"She's already there."
She shakes her head. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"You talk to her, don't you?"
"She's my friend. Ron is a guy and
I couldn't talk to you, could I?" She laughs bitterly, "Do you
understand now why I didn't want to get involved with you? It isn't just our
relationship that we've lost, it's our friendship too. I can't talk to you!
You're the problem."
I contemplate my cereal for a moment.
"I made a list."
"Oh, Merlin." she groans. "I don't want to hear it."
"Please? I know you don't owe me anything and I have no right to ask you,
but please, Hermione?"
She sighs deeply. "Fine."
"It's just… reasons why you should forgive me."
"There's nothing…"
"Shhhh. Please?"
"Go ahead."
"You taught me about friendship."
"No…"
"Yes, Hermione. You did. You taught me that it's the most important part
of what we have. I miss that. So maybe you are right. Maybe I ruined that. And
you know what? I'm the most sorry about that."
She nods and looks away.
"You taught me about beauty."
"Please, don't…" she whispers.
"Not physical beauty, Hermione." I shake my head. "Although you
are the most beautiful woman I know. You taught me about how beautiful this world
can be. When we were together, what we had, it made me stop seeing all the bad
things."
"Not enough though, huh?"
I continue.
"You taught me to never give up on what we have."
She returns her gaze to me.
"That list, Hermione… you know, I pulled it out the other night and I read
it again. And I thought, if it were anyone else, I wouldn't have kept trying to
prove you wrong. But it wasn't anyone else; it was you. And I couldn't give up
on you because if I gave up on you, I'd be giving up on me too."
She sighs.
"Harry, it doesn't matter. Stop. Stop reading."
I my throat seizing up but it doesn't matter.
"You taught me about loving someone, Hermione."
"What you did to us, that wasn't love."
"No, you're right. It was selfish and cowardly and stupid. I didn't know
how to get anyone to understand that you're the only woman I want. I wanted
them to understand. But it doesn't matter if they don't understand. It only
matters that you do."
"Harry, I can't."
"I know. I know, and it's my fault. But you are, Hermione. The only one.
If being alone is what proves that to you, then I'll be alone."
She sighs.
"I'm tired, Harry. I'm tired of fighting; I'm tired of crying. I'm tired
of all of it."
"Hermione, you've taught me so much and what have I taught you? I've
taught you that love is irresponsible and painful and I taught you not to trust
it. But maybe there's something else I can teach you. I don't deserve it and I
have no right to ask you to let me try, but I have to be the one to teach
it."
She closes her eyes and I watch helplessly as tears slide down her cheeks.
Her voice is barely audible, "What?"
"Forgiveness."
***
"Forgiveness." I repeat, wiping my eyes.
"Yes."
"Is that what you think this is about?"
"Isn't it?" He asks, his eyes full of sincerity.
I fix my stare on the back of his cereal box. "When you're friends with
somebody, or related to them, or when you...love a person, then you learn to
forgive them for things. You do it all the time because you know they're still
good people."
"Am I?"
"What, one hell of a swell guy?" I say sarcastically. "You're
not a bad guy, Harry. You're one of the good guys, actually. You did something
wrong, but you're still decent at the end of the day."
"So..."
"So, if I did forgive you, it's a natural response that would happen at
some point anyway. But as much as you say you want my forgiveness, it's not
what you really want."
"What do you think I want?"
"For things to be the way they were before." I say confidently.
"For us to banter and joke around on the couch. For me to like being with
you again, for you to come back to me, to my bed."
He cocks his head to the side. "Well, okay, maybe eventually, but I'd
still need for you to forgive me. Not just for me, but for you."
"Harry, if I forgave you this instant, why do you think we'd
instantaneously end up back together?"
"If you forgive me, doesn't that mean that we're okay?"
"Yes, but it doesn't mean I would find it in me to subject myself to this
all over again."
I stand up and push my chair away from the table so I can wash my bowl.
"We were happy." He insists.
"We were."
"Wouldn't you want that again?"
"You think that you're the only one who could make me happy?" I ask
and his face tells me that I burned him with the remark. I feel badly, so I try
to clarify. "There are too many variables with us, and I need a lot of
fight to keep it going and I don't know that I have it in me."
"Then let me fight for us."
"Your manager wasn't happy, some of your fans were irate, your mother was
practically in tears to learn about what you like to do on your spare time, the
people back home apparently have a bushel of problems with us. And the idea of
me ever going down there and then seeing her, or knowing that you'd inevitably
see her again, well that really isn't something I want to live with day to
day."
"They can all go fuck themselves." He says crassly. "My manager,
my fans, I don't give a damn anymore."
Part of me feels badly for him that he went home for the first time in a long
time and everything that could go wrong, did. And then some. I know he didn't
go there to cheat on me. Sometimes people just wear you down.
"Will you let me, Hermione?"
Forgiveness.
I can't say no. That would compound our problems. And I don't want to say no.
He's being sincere.
"Okay."
"You won't be sorry. I'll make sure of it."
I just nod at him, and he comes up to me, opening up his arms a bit. "May
I?"
I nod stupidly at him and he pulls me close into a hug. My face is buried in
his neck and as soon as I feel his skin against me, the tears come back,
spilling over him.
***
I hold her close until she stops shaking and then I pull back and run my thumbs
along her cheekbones, gathering the tears.
"You know how I said that I wouldn't change anything because I know now that
I was taking you for granted?"
She nods.
"I meant that, but if it's something that I could have learned without
hurting you, I wouldn't have done that. I'd do anything to take that
away."
"You can't" she whispers.
"I know that. But maybe I can start over. Maybe I can avoid doing that
again."
She sighs, "I don't know how we start over, Harry. There's too much
between us. It's not like I can reintroduce myself to you and you to me and we
pretend like the past didn't happen."
"I know."
"Then I'm not sure…"
"We make her the past, Hermione."
"And how do you propose that we do that?"
I take her hand in mine and lead her over to the couch where we sit next to
each other and I turn to face her.
"There was this girl I kissed once" I begin. "Her name was
Stephanie."
"Harry, don't…"
"She was attractive and nice and I didn't feel like I needed to defend my
choices with her. She was "innocent" and stunning so everyone was comfortable
with her. It was easy to be around her."
"I can't listen to this."
"It's the only way I know of putting this behind us."
She bites her lip. "I don't want to hear details."
"It wasn't just that my mother approved of her, Hermione. It's that it
felt like she understood what it was like, to not always do things that were
sanctioned by your relatives."
"So you're a rebel, now?"
"In a way, yeah."
"Great. Except you know what, Harry? I don't want to be someone who you're
with to prove a point. It makes me feel cheap and used."
"Do you really think that's what I'm doing?"
"If it's easier, and she understands you so much, then why are you back
here?"
"Because, Hermione. Stephanie understands what that life is like. But you
understand what this life is like, and that's the life that I want now."
"You weren't so sure of that," she argues.
"I know."
"I have one question and I need you to be honest with me."
"Of course."
"If her mom hadn't come home then, would you have slept with her?"
I take my time before answering. I take her hands in mine.
"I don't know" I say finally, my voice cracking.
She looks away.
"You asked me to be honest, Hermione."
She nods, "I know."
"I wish I could tell you that I would have stopped myself. But I don't
know that I would have. I don't expect you to understand this, but I just sort
of lost myself and I can't say I hated that feeling at the time."
"After…" she takes a deep breath. "When her mom was coming in,
did you think about me?"
"Yes," I nod. "And you're all I've thought about since. I
thought that I'd never be able to face you again and in a way, I was right. I
couldn't. I tried, Hermione. And maybe that's why the other night happened. I
wanted to pretend that what happened in The Burrow didn't happen. I wanted to
believe that nothing had happened to change us. But it has."
She simply nods.
"I know it was a horrible way to tell you and it probably made everything
that much worse, but I couldn't be with you and lie to you. I couldn't have you
believing in me when there was nothing to believe in."
She's quiet for a minute.
"You know there's a good chance that I would've never known."
"Yeah, but I did. I couldn't have you living a lie, even if it means that
you'll never live with me."
"So this girl you knew… do you remember her well?"
"No, she's just someone I knew once."
"And now?"
"And now I've found you. And myself."
"I liked you before, Harry."
"I'm better now."
