Hermione — 19th July 2007
Not wanting to alert Harry and Pansy to my unscheduled visit to England, I took the Floo to the British Ministry and ran through the labyrinth of a building, desperate to talk to Draco in person. Even from almost a thousand miles away, I could feel his distress and anger.
I knew I couldn't wait until Tuesday to see him. I didn't want to give him almost a week to overthink things.
By the time I reached my house, he was already there, sitting in the armchair with his arms crossed over his chest. As soon as he saw me, his eyes roamed over my body, taking in the bare expanses of skin on my legs.
"Evening, Hermione."
I heard his frustration in the way he said my name.
"Draco," I said tentatively, taking a step forward and settling into my normal place on the sofa.
He was still watching me, his eyes burning a path along my skin. Neither of us seemed particularly ready to start the conversation. I met his stare and felt the thrum of our bond, the magnetic tug on something deep inside of me. My body wanted to go to him, to touch him, to soothe him. He swallowed hard, and I knew he wanted to come to me, too.
"We were happy," he said, finally breaking the silence.
Tears started to well in my eyes. "We were. For the longest time, we were. I hated that you couldn't always be with me but I knew you loved me, and I loved you. The time we did have together made the separations bearable. And until Astoria got pregnant, they were usually only one or two days at a time."
Draco hands kept balling into fists and releasing as he listened.
"And I don't know how to apologise any differently. I didn't think it would be hard for you to see the good times—"
"Of course it's hard for me to see those things!" He rose to his feet and closed the distance between us. "Those happy times — they were all I ever wanted. I wanted to be in love like that. And the fact that it was with you?" Leaning down, he braced his hands on the back of the sofa, one on either side of my head. "That was better than any dream I ever could've had."
He was standing so close, his face mere centimetres from mine, and my eyes darted down to his lips. It was clear he was angry, but I didn't care. I wanted him to bury everything — his pain, his longing, his frustration — deep inside of me. And I knew that if I kissed him, his control would snap.
"We can get it all back," I murmured. "I think we can be happy like that again. Once you've seen everything—"
Much to my surprise, he pulled away. "I don't want to watch the rest of the memories."
My heart nearly stopped, skipping a few beats before my brain intervened and made it start again. "Why?"
"Because the past is the past, Hermione," he said angrily, moving to lean against the wall beside the Floo. "If we spend all our time focusing on our relationship and how things were before, how are we ever supposed to move forward?"
"But how are we supposed to move forward if you can't remember our past? Won't you hate me for that?"
He sighed. "I don't know. I just, I don't like watching the memories without you. When you're there, I don't... It's not as bad for me."
"I don't understand."
"I don't know how to explain it properly," Draco stated. "But you almost... I can feel you next to me, and you steady me. It's a reminder that you're still here, even though I fucked things up so badly. But when you're away and I'm trying to do it on my own, I struggle. I get angry — mostly with myself — and then I want to take it out on someone else."
I stood and crossed the room, stopping when my toes were touching his. Looking into his eyes, I said, "Take it out on me. I can handle it. You're not going to say anything I haven't already thought in the past two years."
His eyes darkened and I reached out, settling my hands on his chest. I could feel his heart pounding beneath my palms and his frustration burning below the surface.
"Go ahead," I continued. "I'm right here. Whatever you're feeling, just tell me."
Rather than speaking, he settled his hands over mine and squeezed them tightly as we continued to stare, neither ready to look away.
As the seconds passed, I felt the need building between us, feeding off of the heightened emotions that filled the room. A pulsing started deep inside of me and my lungs began to breathe in tandem with his. His thumbs stroked over the back of my hands, sending a tingling sensation straight to my core.
My eyes darted down to his lips again and then even further, trying to see if he was as affected as I was. I stepped closer still, each of my feet moving to the side and forward so I was straddling his legs. When I tried to move my hand up to his face, his grip tightened, holding it in place.
"What are you doing, Hermione?" His voice was husky and strained at the same time — he was trying to control himself.
"I'm here. I'm reminding you of that. Let's talk, the way we would in the Pensieve."
His eyes squeezed shut and he said, "I can't even think straight when you're this close to me, never mind talk."
"Do you want me to take a step back?"
"No," he breathed. "Please don't."
The mixed signals were driving me mad, though I supposed I was guilty of sending them, too. I'd taken the assignment in Spain to put distance between us and said that I didn't want to use sex to avoid hard conversations, but here I was in England, touching him and moving closer.
And then I remembered what Pansy had said — sex should strengthen the connection between you and make it easier to communicate.
My tongue darted out, wetting my lips, and I moved forwards. His eyes were still closed, but he could feel me coming closer and wasn't pushing me away.
When my lips met his, he eagerly reciprocated, his hands releasing mine and landing on my face. He angled my head, guiding the kiss, his tongue coaxing my lips open. There was a fluttering deep inside my stomach and my magic raced along my nerves, concentrating at the points where my skin touched his.
My hands slid down his torso and forced their way under the hem of his shirt, finding their way to the taut muscles and heated skin of his abdomen.
"Wait," he panted, pulling back. "Isn't this what we're not supposed to be doing?"
"Do you want to stop?" I asked, the fingertips of one hand slipping beneath his waistband.
His response was immediate. "No. Gods, no."
I nodded and pulled him with me, walking backward to the sofa. When I moved to break the kiss and lay back, he stopped me and shook his head.
"Let's go to my place," he said, his eyes darkening. "Somewhere new."
My chest rose and fell rapidly, my breaths coming quicker as his hands drifted over my body.
Somewhere new. A new beginning.
"Okay. Take me there."
Draco kissed me again and spun on his heel, Apparating us straight into his bedroom. He tugged at my t-shirt and I broke the kiss so he could pull it over my head. His eyes hungrily roamed over my chest, taking in the simple black bra I was wearing.
"Fuck," he groaned, waving his hand and clearing things off the duvet.
A journal. The Pensieve. Some memory vials. They settled neatly on the chest of drawers in the corner of the room.
"Get on the bed," he ordered, and I shook my head.
"Not yet," I said, slowly working at the button of his trousers. "There's something we skipped over last time."
He toed his shoes off, working in tandem with me to bare his lower half, and I reversed our positions.
"Sit on the edge."
He was hard already, his cock straining and weeping. I shucked off my shorts and dropped to my knees in front of him.
"You don't have to—"
Cutting him off, I took his head into my mouth eagerly and sucked hard. His eyes were still on me and I saw the flash of heat, the glimpse of longing.
With a moan, I pulled back and said, "You taste just like I remember."
"Fuck," he hissed as my lips wrapped around him again.
His fingers found their way into my hair, cradling my head while I found a rhythm. When I took him deeper, his grip tightened. When I pulled back and teased his head by twirling my tongue, his hips jerked forward, begging for more. And when I sucked hard, he gasped and groaned.
Both praise and curses fell from his lips and his cheeks flushed with arousal.
I let him fall out of my mouth, my hand taking over, and he leaned forward to kiss me hard and unhook my bra.
Sighing into his mouth, I rose to my feet and his hands slid down my body, his thumbs slipping into the sides of my knickers.
"Off," he groaned against my lips. "Take them off."
"Your shirt," I replied, and we each stripped off our remaining clothing. Scrambling onto the bed, I laid in the centre, my legs parted, and he turned to kneel between them.
"Give me one of the pillows," he said, and I quickly handed it over. After shoving it under my hips, he slid his fingers inside of me, testing me. I tightened around him, showing him how much I wanted more, and his thumb swirled my clit.
My breathing accelerated and I shifted, meeting the movements of his hand and chasing the release I'd been craving since our kiss on Tuesday.
"That's it, Granger. Just like that. Show me what you want."
My hands moved into my hair, tugging at it the way he usually did, and I lifted my knees, planting my heels on the bed for more leverage. My back arched and Draco's mouth landed on the inside of my thigh.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he said, slipping a third finger inside, trying to stretch me. The increased pressure made me cry out.
He stopped, withdrawing his fingers and sucking them into his mouth. My whole body tightened as I watched, my hands moving from my hair to my breasts, my fingers teasing over my nipples.
"Draco," I breathed, a pleading note in my voice.
Grabbing my thighs, he tugged me closer and lined himself up. The head of his cock was hot and hard and I wanted nothing more than to feel it sinking inside of me.
He didn't make me wait.
Still on his knees between my legs, he thrust hard, making my whole body jolt. When he withdrew, it was at a more measured pace, slowly sliding out before slamming back into me. I extended my arms up over my head and planted my palms on the headboard, bracing myself. With each slam of his pelvis into mine, I cried out, loving the sound and the feeling of his roughness.
And I couldn't look away from him. His eyes were watching my every reaction, watching the way my breasts jostled and the way my mouth dropped open. He moved my legs, pulling them up and together, both my feet in the air over one of his shoulders. Increasing the pace, he started to shorten his strokes, setting a rubbing rhythm rather than bruising my insides.
He shifted, slightly changing the angle, and my vision blurred as pleasure flooded through me, racing both through my veins and along my nerves, making my entire body quake.
"Do you like this, Granger?" he growled.
"Yes!"
He moved a hand to my clit and I sobbed, wanting to simultaneously get closer to him and pull away from the pleasure. It was overwhelming, dragging me down into a completely mindless state, but Draco didn't relent.
His hips kept moving, his fingers kept rubbing, and I felt every muscle in my body pulling tight, the tension close to snapping.
"Harder!" I moaned, though I wasn't sure I'd survive it.
He obliged, adding a snap to the end of his thrusts that finally killed me.
I spasmed and shook, my eyes slamming shut as colours erupted in my mind; red and green and blue, yellow and pink, a whole fucking rainbow.
I'd never felt anything like it.
Draco withdrew and I figured he would turn me over, pull my hips up and lose himself in my body. But then I felt my legs parting, his tongue on my clit and I wailed.
"—taste so fucking sweet," he mumbled between licks, his tongue tracing over every inch of me.
"Draco," I panted, my fingers tugging at his hair. "I can't... I won't come again."
He considered my words a challenge and rose to the occasion. He sucked on my clit, hard, and then his tongue took over again, swirling over it and then dipping inside of me, devouring me like I was a delicacy. One hand moved downward, his fingers sliding into my cunt, and the other moved up, gripping my breast tightly, almost painfully. I covered it with mine, directing his fingers to my nipple, and he clamped down.
"Fuck!" I screamed. "Yes, like that!"
Grinding against his face, I ate my words, coming again with just as much force as I had the first time. I could feel his lips vibrating against me as he savoured my release, and the hums prolonged my pleasure.
Once I was coherent again, he pulled back and deftly turned me over, grabbing my hips and positioning me on my knees. My legs were still trembling and I heard him chuckle darkly. He was smug but seemed more relaxed than he had before. Deep inside of me, I could feel our connection, the invisible string that tied us together, strengthening, another strand seemingly wrapping around it to reinforce the bond.
As he slid back inside of me, Draco groaned with pleasure and I started to eagerly meet his movements. His fingers were digging into me, giving me a pleasurable bit of pain, and I rose on my hands, arching my back. Grabbing a handful of my hair, his thrusts sped up, using my body in a way I was certain he really hadn't before.
But I loved what he was doing to me.
Most of the memories I'd shown him were gentler than this. In fact, I could hardly remember a time where he'd been so rough, so out of control.
"You really are a fucking goddess," he said, his voice rumbling. "Perfect. So fucking perfect. I'm going to come so hard."
Something deep inside of me was coiling tight again, spurred on by the way he was slamming into my body and nearly making my knees give out.
"Draco," I moaned. "Oh, Draco!"
At the sound of my voice, his movements faltered and he slowed, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me up. He sat back on his haunches, me on his lap. Smoothing my hair over one shoulder, he kissed my neck, breathing me in and making my whole body clench.
I turned my head as far as I could and he took the hint, capturing my lips with his. We were both hot, sweat slicking our skin, and I flexed my thighs, gently rocking against him as he thrust up into me.
"Hermione," he breathed in my ear, capturing the lobe between his teeth for just a second. "You feel so good wrapped around me."
"Don't stop," I panted. "Please don't stop!"
"Never. Never again," Draco promised, his hand moving down to my clit.
I quickly pulled it away, still oversensitive from the previous two climaxes, and brought it up to my breast again.
"Don't you want to come for me?"
"I will," I said, rocking more forcefully. "Fuck, I definitely will."
"Good. I'm almost there."
And then he somehow managed to turn our bodies so we were facing a mirror. A head-to-toe mirror. My jaw slackened and my eyes fluttered shut at the sight.
"Watch," he murmured, his lips on my ear. "I've been watching us in the Pensieve all night and I want you to see it, too."
I swallowed hard and opened my eyes, meeting his in the mirror before letting them roam, taking in the possessive hold he had me in, the way his pupils were blown. His hair was sweat-dampened and darker than usual, and his cock was working in and out of me rapidly. Since I was straddling his lap, I was spread open, arousal glistening where we were joined.
I was so turned on I felt like I couldn't breathe.
His fingers started toying with my nipple and my head dropped back to his shoulder. Lifting my arm, I snaked my hand into his hair, bracing the other on his muscled thigh.
He met my eyes in the mirror again and said, "I love you. So much."
The words caught in my throat. I wanted to say them — knew I should say them — but a moan tumbled out of my mouth instead, my third climax crashing over me out of nowhere. He held me steady through it, keeping me tethered to him when I sobbed my release.
We kept at it, still exploring the renewed sexual relationship between us while watching ourselves in the mirror. When I felt a subtle swelling inside of me, I knew he was on the brink. His hips sped up, his mouth sucked a trail of fire against my skin, and I let my eyes close again.
Strained sounds of pleasure tumbled out of him and he manoeuvred our bodies down to the mattress, still keeping me wrapped in his arms. As soon as my head was on the pillow, his lips were on my shoulders, my back, my neck.
"I meant it," he said, his breath tickling my ear. "I only got frustrated because I love you and seeing us happy like that just drove home how stupid I was. I want it all back."
He was somehow still sheathed inside my body. I reached back, tangling my fingers in his hair again.
"We can get there," I replied quietly, my energy quickly fading. "We'll figure it all out because I love you too."
His breath caught and his arms tightened. "I promise I will spend every single day of the rest of my life making it up to you, Hermione."
Needing to lighten things up, I said, "Promise me one more thing?"
"Anything."
"That you'll take your frustration out on me like that every single time."
He laughed against my skin. "That can probably be arranged."
I turned, wincing as he slid out of me, and faced him. "Now kiss me properly. I don't think I can stay awake for another minute."
Smiling, Draco leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine, giving me a slow, sweet kiss that stole my breath again.
"You're staying?"
"Obviously. I don't think I can move after all that."
He looked down at me. "How did we normally sleep? Am I on the right side?"
I nodded and rolled over again, pressing my back to his chest and curling my legs. His legs tucked in behind me and I felt happy tears in my eyes. Tangling my feet with his, I positioned his arms and laced our fingers together.
"Like this?" he asked.
"Yes. This is perfect."
"Will your hair try to suffocate me?"
"It might, but it never succeeded before."
He snickered and then said, " Nox. "
All the lights shut off and we settled into the comfortable sleeping position of our past like we'd never been parted.
Draco — 20th-21st July 2007
Sun streaked in through the window, waking me earlier than usual. I hadn't closed the curtains.
As my senses started to stir, I realised I was not alone. Inhaling deep, I sighed happily.
Hermione.
Memories of the previous night came rushing back — the frustration, the way she'd come back to see me, the way she'd told me to take it all out on her… And the sex.
In my bed.
For the first time ever, I'd been with her in my own bed, my house. Not hers, not something rented, but mine.
Tightening my hold on her, I burrowed my face into the mass of curls strewn across my pillowcase, trying to find the smallest bit of skin to kiss.
She wriggled in my arms, mumbling sleepily. "What are you doing?"
I smiled. "Nothing. It's just early. Let's go back to sleep."
"I have to get back," Hermione mumbled. "Which means I have to go home first. I didn't think about what I was wearing last night. I can't walk through the Ministry in shorts during business hours."
My stomach roiled. "Do you regret it?"
"Of course not." Rolling over, she faced me and leaned in for a kiss. "I wouldn't have stayed if I regretted it. I've woken up a few times, so I've had plenty of chances to make an escape."
I pushed her hair back from her face, feeling a little out of my depth. As many times as I'd imagined waking up next to her, the reality was much better. I wanted this to be my normal, everyday routine.
"Do you want tea? Or coffee?" I asked. "I can get the kettle going."
Her teeth sank into her lower lip. "I have time for a cup of tea. Maybe we can actually talk a little bit since we didn't last night."
I stole another kiss. "I wouldn't change a thing. And I'm feeling much better this morning."
One of her palms landed on my chest and she shoved me gently. "You would say that."
Grabbing her hand, I brought it to my lips. "Listen, Hermione, this morning... What we're doing right now, it shows me that we can really move past it all. When I saw how happy we were before, I think I got scared that we'd never get it back, and then I got angry with myself for ruining something I always wanted."
"And I'm sure you weren't happy with me just walking away from it, either," she replied.
"When I'm thinking rationally, I can understand why you did it. But no, I wasn't happy last night."
She looked over my shoulder, glancing at the clock, and groaned.
"Let's get up. We can talk more over tea."
I peeled the sheets back in agreement and she rolled away, moving all the way to her side of the bed and throwing her legs over the edge.
"At least all our clothes are in one room today," she said, laughing as she wandlessly summoned her things.
As soon as Hermione was fully on her feet, she placed a hand on the mattress, bracing herself.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
She waved me off. "I'm fine. I probably just stood up too fast. I'm a little dizzy."
"You sure?"
Nodding, she started slipping her bra on. "Does that door lead to a toilet?"
"It does." I stood and walked over to open it. "Did you want to shower?"
"No, I'll shower at home where I have all my things."
"Well, it's all yours," I said, gesturing to the bathroom. "I was going to get you towels and the like if you needed them."
A smile started to form on her face. "You weren't going to join me?"
I thought back to the memory I'd seen last night, the one where she'd said I was always invited. "It's a moot point if you're not taking a shower, Granger."
As she pulled her shirt over her head, she said, "Well, you might have been able to persuade me."
Shaking my head, I said, "As wonderful as I'm sure shower sex would be, I do really want to talk before you go back to... wherever it is you're working."
She bent down to pull her knickers and shorts up and I wanted to groan. I was still standing there completely naked and she seemed unfazed.
I summoned a pair of sleep pants and pulled them on, leaving my torso bare, and leaned against the doorjamb, waiting for her to say something in return.
"I'd forgotten how sexy your hair looks in the morning," she said with a wink as she disappeared into the bathroom. "See you in a minute."
Running a hand through my fringe, I could feel how rumpled it was. It was her fault; she'd twisted and pulled at it last night.
Mechanically, I walked to the kitchen to start the Muggle coffee maker and put on the kettle for Hermione's tea. I busied myself with finding mugs and all the fixings. After a few minutes passed, I frowned.
And then I remembered that she hadn't seen the townhouse at all and would likely have no idea where I was. We'd Apparated into the bedroom last night and I hadn't taken the time to give her a proper tour.
I started back up the stairs and called out so I wouldn't startle her.
"Hermione, I just realised I never showed you around."
At the top of the stairs, I went into my bedroom and found it empty, along with the bathroom. I turned and walked into the office. She was looking at the bookshelves, her fingers tracing the spines the way they had back in the Hogwarts library, the Knockturn Alley bookstore.
"Did you even hear me?" I teased, walking up behind her and wrapping my arms around her waist. "Or were you too distracted by my books?"
She relaxed into my hold and said, "Of course I did. I was just seeing if you had anything worth borrowing."
"Quite a few of them are from you." I kissed her neck. "And you can't have them back. You wrote me notes in them."
With a quiet laugh, her lips grazed my jaw. "I've been brushing up on my runes."
Thinking of the book I'd owled her, I smiled. "Well, I think you should get naked again, then. I'm ready to test you."
"Draco!" Turning, she slapped my bare chest again and then her finger traced the symbol for Jera against my skin. "You know, maybe I should try quizzing you."
In my head, I heard her voice in Falmouth — Cycles. Everything returns to the same point.
"That's Jera," I replied, meeting her dark eyes and her challenge. "The rune that brought us back together."
And I resolved to break the cycle — to keep us here together rather than drifting apart again. Now that we'd found our way back, I wouldn't lose her.
"It also represents patience," she whispered, her palm flat on my chest. "Just a week and a half more and I should be back for good."
"So I shouldn't ask you to come home for the weekend?"
She gave me a sad smile. "You could, and I might, but I don't think it's what either of us needs."
I sighed dramatically.
Rising up on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to mine. "Let's go have tea."
Taking her hand, I led her through the house, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. She slowly stirred her tea, taking her time before looking up at me again. I was already halfway through my first cup of coffee.
"You said that you don't want to watch the rest of the memories," she stated, worrying her lower lip. The confidence she'd shown last night and the gentle teasing of this morning had vanished.
"I don't want to watch them on my own," I corrected. "When you're there with me, it feels different."
"Have you remembered anything else? On your own?"
I nodded. "I have, but it's just been snippets of things that don't really matter. It's all been a bit disorganised and unclear."
"And the journals?"
"I've read most of them." I raked a hand through my hair again. "Everything I watch or read just makes me feel more and more like a selfish arsehole. I'm up to where you got together with Blaise, and I've never felt so angry in my entire life."
"Even angrier than when you first found out about...?" Hermione trailed off nervously, her finger tracing the rim of her teacup. She hadn't yet taken a single sip of it, and I wondered why.
"It would've rivalled that, yeah."
She swallowed hard. "I just don't know how you can forgive me without knowing the whole—"
I cut her off again. We'd had this conversation more than once already.
"I know the story, Hermione." I took a deep breath. "We behaved like there was no one else in the world. We spent well over a year completely wrapped up in each other, acting like Astoria and the outside world weren't real. We fell in love. Or you fell in love; I'd already been there for years. It just grew stronger and stronger, but I still didn't behave like a man and do the right thing — I didn't give you what you deserved."
Tears fell from her eyes and she quickly dashed them away. She looked like she was feeling ill, but she made no move to leave.
"But, after making all the wrong decisions, I've learned a lot and I'm ready to make it all up to you. If you want me to start now, I will. If you need more time, I'll give it to you," I said, even though I knew it would be physically painful to keep waiting. "I'm ready to follow your lead. If I stay fixated on the past, I think it'll do more harm than good."
Hermione nodded in understanding. "Okay."
I'd expected her to say more.
"Are you okay?"
I saw her forcing a swallow again. "I'm fine. I think I just... It's early and I think I'm too anxious. I don't feel quite right."
"Have some tea," I suggested, gesturing to her cup. "It's calming, right?"
She shook her head and started to stand. "No. I don't want to risk it. It'll pass and I promise I'll have something to eat as soon as I'm back on the continent."
On the continent. In Europe. My brain registered that little fact as I simultaneously began to worry.
Feeling concerned, I rose too, taking a step towards her. "Will you be okay to Apparate home? I can Side-Along you—"
"I'll just Floo to mine. I'm sure I'll be fine."
She seemed panicky, like she wasn't sure how to handle me. I didn't know if it was how she felt or what I'd said to her about not living in the past. Had I put too much pressure on her?
But she didn't stop me from taking her in my arms, and I felt a modicum of relief.
Hermione must have, too. She relaxed, sinking into the embrace and taking a deep breath. My magic reached out, trying to comfort her while my arms did the same.
"I'm worried," I told her. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"
She squeezed me tighter. "I will be. I'll send you a message as soon as I'm safely back in my flat. This is all just fatigue and feeling anxious. It'll pass. It always does."
I kissed her forehead. "I love you. You need to take care of yourself."
I thought I felt her smile against my chest. "I promise I will." She paused, letting the silence settle between us, and just when I thought she wasn't going to say it back, she added, "I love you, too."
On Saturday morning, my wake-up was much less pleasant.
I saw my mother's owl at the window as soon as I opened my eyes. I was honestly surprised it had taken her over a week to reach out; she normally wanted to try to repair things much more quickly. The pillow Hermione had used still smelled like her perfume and I'd used it, falling asleep with her scent surrounding me. Before I got out of bed, I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the nerves the owl had prompted.
Waving my hand, I wandlessly opened the window, letting the bird in and taking the scroll from him. When I unrolled it, the letter said exactly what I'd expected — that she wanted to see me and talk things through, that she missed Scorpius, that she was sorry all over again. She had invited me to Sunday tea and said that my father was out of town on business and wouldn't be home. I knew this was quite possibly a lie; if my mother told him to, my father would make himself scarce for several hours.
I tossed it aside, not yet awake enough to compose an adequate response. Laying back down, I rubbed my face with my palms, trying not to think about where in the world my father could be if he really was out of town. It was no use, though. I could still see him threatening Hermione, talking about travelling to Sydney under the guise of a business trip.
And it made me feel angry again, reminding me why I wasn't yet ready to speak with her. Somehow, I knew I had to sort my life out before I could have a sit-down with my mother.
Reaching for the journal, I opened it and saw Hermione had already penned a note.
Heading out for a few hours — need to buy food and a gift for Harry's birthday. Hope you slept well and have a good morning xx
Despite everything, it made me smile. She'd thought to let me know that she'd be out. It seemed like something a true partner would do; she wasn't obligated to tell me anything about what her plans were. She kept me informed because she wanted to, and I decided I'd do the same. I wrote and told her about my plans for the day and said I looked forward to speaking with her later on.
Once I'd showered and had coffee, I sat on the couch in my sitting room, one of Hermione's journals in hand. This particular one had started shortly after she and Blaise progressed to a more-than-friends relationship, and each passage was a struggle for me. The frequency of the letters diminished and she'd stopped for weeks at a time, but they picked up again.
All at once, I seemed to rush back into her life and into her thoughts.
As I read the letter she'd written to me after we'd collided in Diagon Alley, my stomach soured, making bile rise into my throat. I remembered the day in question clearly. Astoria and I had taken Scorpius out, looking to buy a birthday gift for my mother. And, thinking back now, I could see the way Hermione looked at me, like I was a ghost.
In a way, I had been; I'd been the empty shell of her ex-lover.
Astoria grabbed your arm and pulled you along. As soon as you had turned, she shot me a sly little smile, knowing she had won in the end. She had you and your son and there I was, totally alone.
Thinking back, I could remember the way Astoria had rushed me, even though we weren't running late at all. I remembered her mentioning my father — not my mother — and I understood why now. She was reminding Hermione of his threats, of what she still had to lose if she didn't comply with the agreement and stay away from me. And then she'd added insult to injury by smirking at her.
Things had certainly changed a lot since then.
I kept reading, each and every line more devastating.
You're off living a new life, one that is basically built on a lie that I created for you so you wouldn't miss what we once had.
And I'm still here, in the same little house, just living with the memory of you.
I couldn't begin to imagine how hard this had been for her to write out, let alone live through. One thing stood out to me, though. She'd never really moved on from our relationship, even when she was with Blaise. Just a small run-in had caused her major emotional distress and she hadn't mentioned him at all. She'd felt completely alone.
She might have pushed me away, but she still loved me, even then.
Like a man possessed, I moved straight into the next entry. It had been written after she'd found out I was coming back to work.
Things were just starting to be good for me again. I think I'm falling in love with Blaise, and now you're coming back, and I don't know what to do. Obviously you won't remember anything that happened between us, but I remember everything and I don't know how to handle that. I don't know if I can cope with what I did and carry on with my life if I have to see you every day.
As soon as Harry told me, I ran out of the office. I came home, to our little house, as you used to call it, and I'm writing to you again. Merlin, it's been months since I did this, but I needed to get it all out. I haven't been in a panic like this in a very, very long time, and it's knocked me down completely. And if Blaise had been with me when Harry told me… I'm sure he would've been crushed. Completely devastated by my reaction.
I just… I don't know how to exist in the same space as you when you're not really the you that I knew before. I'm so nervous that you'll treat me differently — like you used to before we had the affair — and I don't know if I can handle that. I don't know if I can handle being ignored or stared at or even breathing the same air as you.
Reading these conflicted feelings helped me to truly understand the way she'd acted and tried to keep her distance when I first came back to work. She'd seemed skittish and tried to avoid me.
Merlin, it felt like it had been two years ago rather than mere months.
I tried to imagine myself in her position — the ex-lover, the one who'd felt like she hadn't been enough — just trying to make it through the day without giving anything away. Trying to balance her relationship and feelings for Blaise with her feelings for me. Trying to keep him happy while also trying to form a friendship with me. Feeling drawn to me, knowing I was feeling drawn to her, and trying to keep her interest hidden.
It must have been exhausting.
There weren't many more entries, though she'd written out thoughts and questions and overall feelings. Selfishly, I wished she'd written to me after I'd found Anima in her office. I wanted to know how she'd truly felt, rather than what she'd outwardly showed.
Picking up the two-way journal, I summoned a self-inking quill and started to write.
Through with your journal entries. I feel like I owe you a thousand more apologies.
I waited a few minutes to see if she'd respond. When she didn't, I decided to go about my weekend. I had to collect Scorpius from Astoria; he was going to spend the night here, so I knew I'd be busy for the better part of the day.
Ultimately, I had to give Hermione the time and space she needed to process and work through all the changes in her life. And I had to do the same — find a rhythm in my new life, especially when I had Scorpius over to stay. Like I'd told Hermione on Friday morning, I couldn't fixate on the past. I needed to move forward and work through some of my own demons.
While I wanted nothing more than for her to come home, we needed to do things the right way this time around.