His Insanity
She sighed. Outside the window she was looking through the sun was just setting. Brilliant shades of red, purple, and orange were streaked across the darkening sky in a shimmery rainbow. Pale translucent clouds were floating about above her house. In all, the effect was gorgeous.
But she couldn't admire it. Not like she used to. Not like they used too.
Again Hermione sighed. This man she was married too isn't the same man she fell in love with. Harry had… changed.
Silently she rose, ignoring the tears that threatened to fall, and started towards the kitchen. She knew her husband, and he liked dinner ready when he got home. Whenever that was.
She glanced at the grandfather clock standing near door between the kitchen and dining room. It was a copy of the one Mrs. Weasley had, thought it only had two hands, hers and Harry's. Harry's hand was pointed at the new spot she had made that indicated that he was leaving to come home in the next ten minutes or so. Harry had a remote that he pushed when he was soon to come home so that she could start dinner at the right time.
The house was quiet as Hermione pulled the vegetables and meat out of the fridge. There were no children, no cats, no toads, not even an owl. Crookshanks had died a couple years ago and Harry kept Hedwig at his office. Hermione was all alone in their little two bedroom home all day.
She didn't have a job. She never visited friends. She barely left the house, only going out to go shopping or to attend some function Harry required her to be at. This self-sufficient, liberated woman was the most common example of a housewife, her life pure and simple.
I can't even remember how all this started, she thought. And in all truthfulness, she couldn't, not really. It was back in sixth year that she realized that Harry loved her. Not she loved Harry, but that Harry loved her. She already knew that she loved him, it always seemed to her that she couldn't much remember a time when she didn't love him, but that was just her memory these days, she was forgetting everything. Except, of course, her recipes.
And then it took almost losing her for Harry to realize that he loved her. But he did, and life was good. Full of sunshine and daisies.
"Oh Harry." She giggled. He swept her up into his arms and swung her around him, stopping only to kiss her.
"Well 'Mione I do love you."
"And I love you more."
"Oh no you don't! I love you more!" Harry covered her face in soft butterfly kisses, reveling in her sweetness.
"How much do you love me?" Her voice was deep and husky, full of meaning.
"With all of my heart."
"And how much it that?"
"More than the space in the entire universe." His voice was soft and whispered, tickling her neck when he spoke.
"Oh Harry." And this time her voice was faint, her chin trembling and eyes brimming with tears. He brought his hands up and buried them in her hair as he stared into her watery cinnamon eyes. Slowly he leaned forward and kissed briefly each eye, then followed down the trail of her tears to her lips, which he claimed fully with his own.
His arms circled around her and crushed her against him as her arms wrapped around his neck and she kissed him back, deep and passionate. He broke the embrace and pulled back to look at her, feeling almost dizzy. Her eyes were barely open, her lip quivering under her deep breathing.
And then she moaned, and he couldn't take it. Again he pulled her tight, and claimed her wholly, the two falling victim to the mercy of a power higher than their own.
Her salty tears fell unnoticed into the beef stew she was preparing for her husband. The slight ripple they caused disappeared against the carrots and potatoes. He'd never know. He never noticed before.
XXX
Harry arrived home and ate quickly, then left before she was done to go shower. Hermione finished her small portion then washed their dishes and got ready for bed. Harry always wanted her in bed when he went, so of course as he left their bathroom Hermione was already in bed waiting for him.
"Ah 'Mione, it's been such a long hard day at work." His hand ran across her bare belly, and she could feel him growing against her thigh. So she let him have her.
And after he finished and fell asleep, Hermione laid awake in their king size next to her cold husband. And she cried. She cried for herself. She cried for him. And she cried for their babies that kept dying.
XXX
She pressed her thumb against the firm flesh of the tomato to check its ripeness. Finding it fresh, Hermione placed it into her basket and went on to look at apples. Harry really loved crisp red apples.
Maybe I'll make him a pie. But what day? Thursday is the gala, Wednesday he's working late, I guess it shall have to be tonight, she mused, and looked around to find the tart baking apples he preferred in his pies.
"Oiy 'Mione!" She jumped and spun around, her dropped apple rolling forward towards the man's feet. He retrieved that apple and handed it to her with a good natured grin. He was tall, covered with freckles and had a head full of shocking red hair.
"Hermione, it's been an awful long time." He leaned forward to hug her, but she pulled away so he stopped.
"Well, what's Harry up to now days?"
"Ha… Harry's at work. I… I'll bring you to him if you like." He nodded, so Hermione quickly paid and walked ahead of him so as not to seem to be with him. At the corner of Livingstone and Livery, a small ramshackle building sat in great disrepair, sectioned off by yellow police caution tape. Hermione stepped in between the old building and the next and disappeared into a side door.
The woman at the front desk had bright blonde hair, a gay smile, and long scarlet nails.
"Visitors for Mr. Potter." Hermione said faintly, and waited next to the man as the receptionist went in search of Mr. Potter.
"Ron!" Harry cried in surprise as he threw his arms around his old friend. Only then did he notice his little, trembling wife.
"Hermione," Harry said in a grave voice. "What are you doing out?"
"It's shopping day Harry. I was there all alone when he found me, so I brought him to you." She said in a soft voice.
Harry nodded and dismissed her then turned back to his old friend and invited him into his office. Ron noticed that weird interaction, but said nothing and followed Harry.
Hermione sighed in relief, now all she had left to do was to go home and put away the food.
XXX
They sat quietly at the table eating dinner, the steaming apple pie cooling on the counter and filling the house with sweet cinnamon smells. Hermione's fork barely made a sound as it hit her plate, her face pointed down towards the table. Across from her, Harry sat fuming in silence, shoveling the food quickly into his mouth and barely chewing before he swallowed.
"Why were you out with him?" He demanded, slamming his hand down on the table. Hermione cringed.
"I… I wasn't Harry. I was shopping when he came up. So I brought him to you and then went straight home. I baked you an apple pie." Her voice took on a hopeful tone. But she knew, deep down, he wasn't happy with her. And when he wasn't happy, it came out in a blast.
When dinner finished, Harry showered and Hermione cleaned up the dinner mess. As she was preparing the bed, Harry entered their bedroom bright red.
"Hermione." His tone was deadly. A cold fluttering feeling entered her stomach and she felt sick.
"Yes Harry?"
"There is too much shit in my bathroom!" With that, he turned and gathered up bottles of lotion and soap and threw them at her, though only a few actually hit her.
But she didn't respond. She stood, sickeningly silent, her fingers clenched and eyes screwed tightly shut.
And then she cried. Her knees gave out and she fell hard to the unforgiving floor beneath her. Her elbows and hands hit the floor and shook with the racking sobs that overtook her.
Harry stood just feet away from the crying woman in complete bafflement. He wondered why she was sobbing on the floor, why she was upset at all.
"Hermione, all you have to do is clean out my bathroom. It isn't really all that hard you know." He stood, his head cocked to the side, looking at her as she looked up at him.
"Y… yes Harry. I'll go clean up the bathroom." She said faintly, climbing to her feet. Harry began humming as he readied himself for bed while his little wife disappeared from the room.
By the time she was done, Harry had fallen asleep.
XXX
Wednesday morning dawned cold, and alone. Hermione woke at eight, her body used to waking at the same time every morning. She showered, then tidied the spotless living room.
At two, when she would normally be reading a book, Hermione was answering her door. Opening the door for her husband.
"So, where's your boyfriend?" A smirk graced Harry's face.
Confusion dotted Hermione's. "What are you talking about Harry?"
Harry's hand swung out across her face sending her tumbling back into the wall, trembling so hard her teeth chattered. Fat blue tears ran slowly down her face from wide eyes.
Her hair was tied up in a yellow bow that matched the dress that was being wrinkled from being bunched up in her position. Harry stared coldly down at her on the floor.
"Did you not think I would hear them, you little whore? Did you really suppose that I wouldn't find out when I work with them?" Harry yelled, spittle flying out into her face. Hermione flinched when he rushed forward to grab on to her shoulders.
"What were you thinking?" Rabidly he shook her, back and forth, her head lolling around, crisp auburn hair flailing around her.
"I didn't Harry, I swear!" She cried, grasping his arms in her hands. "Oh god Harry, why do you hate me!"
That stopped him cold. "I don't hate you 'Mione," he said in a curiously small voice. "I just don't like sharing what's mine."
"Oh Harry, I love only you, why would I ever want any other. It is you I've only ever loved." And she talked, talked so fast her mouth ran dry. Yet still she didn't stop, afraid that once she did, she wouldn't have the courage to finish.
She told her husband of her pain, her loneliness, her need of him, her necessity to be a person, her love. And he hurt. He hurt for her, and for himself, and wondered how it could have come to this point.
"I.. I don't think that I can be here with you any longer Harry." But this statement astounded him the most. She couldn't leave him, he needed her. He required her presence to sleep at night, her love to carry him through the day.
And then he knew. He realized all that he had done to hurt her. And knew he couldn't live without her.
"No 'Mione!" He jumped forward, his arms flung around her lithe frame. "I love you. I need you. I can't live without you. I can't lose you. I'm sorry. Please, please don't leave me. We can try again. I won't hurt you again. I love you." His arms cradled her close, his mouth covering her face in small kisses. His hands ran through her wild hair, massing gently her scalp.
And again, she capitulated. 'Maybe this time, he won't forget. Maybe this time, he really will love me forever.'
And again, she fell under his sickening spell. Into the madness he wove, spun round so tight she couldn't escape. Into the Insanity that was Harry James Potter.
XXX
In a small park outside of town, one small man sat solemnly in the grass. Next to him a petite gravestone sat in the ground holding all that was precious.
"I love you." The wind carried his whispered words away unheard. His tears mingled with the rain, falling to the ground, mixing both with his blood, seeping slowly across, slipping between each blade of grass, soaking into the soil, joining that of his wife's, following in her footsteps, her loved by all, him missed by none.
A.N.
I started writing this about, oh two monthes ago, then found it again tonight and thought, oh maybe I should finish it. So how was it? can anyone guess what was alluded to in the ending? (hint: following in her footsteps) Enjoy! Bruchan