Rating:
R
House:
Astronomy Tower
Ships:
Cho Chang/Harry Potter Harry Potter/Hermione Granger
Characters:
Harry Potter
Genres:
Romance Drama
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire
Stats:
Published: 06/03/2002
Updated: 03/07/2003
Words: 68,481
Chapters: 10
Hits: 24,951

The One That Got Away

K.A. Malfoy

Story Summary:
At the bachelor party celebrating his upcoming wedding to Cho, Harry is made aware of Hermione’s enduring love for him.

Chapter 06

Chapter Summary:
At the bachelor party celebrating his upcoming wedding to Cho, Harry is made aware of Hermione’s enduring love for him. She believes he feels the same way about her but he denies it; saying that their romantic tryst happened years ago and he has moved on with his life. But he is soon forced to re-examine his feelings for Hermione and ponder whether he has chosen the right woman to be his future bride.
Posted:
10/23/2002
Hits:
1,845

Chapter 6: You Should Have Told Me Yourself

Harry sat on his bed and looked across the room at the grandfather clock. He checked his wristwatch; the time was nearly noon. He then waited patiently for the clock to start chiming. And right at noon the bells began to ring a soft melody and the face of the clock stuck out his tongue at him. That sight never ceased to bring a smile to his face. He shook his head, amazed at the sense of humor of his former headmaster Dumbledore for sending him the instrument during his travels in Peru.

But that smile was not everlasting, as he thought of how the clock would soon go into storage, like most of the furniture in the house. The whimsical instrument would surely be replaced with one of Cho's age-old family heirlooms. Harry took a look at his modestly furnished bedroom, thinking of how in a few days time the space will be filled with gilded and ornate furniture. Although he had lived in the home for only a few months, he had grown accustomed to the comfortable furnishings and decor, which much suited his personality.

He got up from the bed and walked to the adjoining balcony. He glanced at the lake as the noonday sun reflected its rays from the surface. Leaning against the railing, he looked down at the grounds of his mansion, amazed that he was now the owner of such a large property - he will soon be co-owner, as Cho's name will be added to the deed later that day.

Oh, glorious space, he thought as he took a deep breath of the perfumed air that wafted from the flower garden. Space was something that was denied to him as a child; first forced to live in a cupboard and then in a tiny bedroom the size of someone's walk-in closet.

He had purchased the twenty-four acre Hertfordshire estate through the aid of Molly Weasley, who spent months trying to find a place that met his specifications. In the beginning, he thought the home was too ostentatious, thinking that a Tutor house in northern London with a garage and backyard would do for him and Cho. But he soon realized that he needed something larger to accommodate all the people in his life.

He and Ron had initially planned on getting a flat together in Chelsea, but Harry's romantic liaison and eventual engagement to Cho had squashed those plans. In the end, a difference in living styles would have prevented him and his friend from experiencing domestic bliss, as Ron's newfound fame and wealth had made him very loud and gregarious.

Harry stepped into the house and began to stroll down the halls, poking his head into four of the six guestrooms that occupied the top floor of the mansion. He opened the door to the light blue wallpapered room at the end of the hall, and eyed its canopy sleigh bed and silk sheets; that was the room Cho liked to sleep in when there was other company staying at the house. He shook his head, thinking of how she never seemed to answer him when he questioned her about this act.

Although most of the guestrooms were now empty, they at one time had housed numerous members of the Weasley clan; Harry still couldn't get the stink bomb smell out to the room Fred and George once shared when they came over for an extended visit. A smile spread on his face as he thought of the family of redheads, who'd become his second family over the years. Molly Weasley would even check up on him from time to time to make sure he was eating well.

Additionally, Author Weasley was a constant guest at the home, as he was fascinated with the Muggle appliances and devices that Harry owned, and would often ask the green-eyed man to instruct him on how to operate them. Mr. Weasley had recently found a growing interest in Harry's microwave. "It actually cooks food from the inside out?" he would ask Harry with a look of sheer fascination on his face. During his most recent visit, the man spent nearly an hour watching food blow up in the contraption, his eyes large with amazement and delight as food splattered on each wall of the microwave.

Harry walked down the spiraling staircase to the first floor and went to the servant quarters. He wrapped lightly on the door, but there was no answer. He opened the door and saw Dobby asleep on the floor in front of his fireplace, his glittery sock-covered feet sticking out from under his blanket. Although the house-elf possessed a large bed of his own, Harry often found him slumbering on the floor. The young man closed the door.

Although Dobby helped him with his fan mail, and ran a few errands, Harry did not look at him as a servant. The house-elf was only there for added companionship and was free to do as he pleased. Cho found this to be a weird arrangement, since her own house-elf had responsibilities that were clearly defined. And that Harry paid Dobby a salary and allowed the house-elf to travel to Hogwarts to visit his lady friend Winky baffled her.

The green-eyed man walked to the other side of the house to the kitchen to make himself some coffee. As he sipped on the hot concoction, he looked down the hall to where one of the downstairs guestrooms was situated. He put down his cup and was about to head down the hall, when he caught sight of his visitor from the window.

Harry opened the sliding glass doors leading to the back veranda and walked towards the man in the wheelchair, who had an entranced look on his face as he stared at the lake. Remaining quiet, the seated man took Harry's hand in his and gave it a squeeze.

Harry looked down at Sirius' face as he felt his godfather's fingers caressing his skin. The older man's face was not as full as before, but he looked better than the state he had been in several weeks prior. Harry looked away as those memories came back to him: the call from the department head telling him to get to the hospital immediately, seeing his godfather's mangled body on that stretcher, having to decide how long to keep him on life support. Harry shook his head, trying to chase these thoughts away.

"Have you been here long?" the young man finally asked.

"I apparated here last night." His godfather looked up at him. "I just had to get away from those white walls."

A disappointed look grew on Harry's face, as he was now regretting sleeping in late. "I wish you would have woken me up. It would have given us a chance to chat."

"I saw you when you apparated home," said Sirius, " but you seemed so tired, I didn't want to disturb you." The man leaned back into his wheelchair and looked out into the horizons. Somehow guessing that Harry was going to say something else, he squeezed his godson's hand again. "Don't worry about it. You're a young man and need all the sleep you can get."

"Did you find everything all right? Did you have trouble--"

Sirius held up his hand at the young man. "I'm fine. And yes, I found the extra towels and everything. Plus, I had Dobby offering me things every five seconds. I was only able to convince him to get some sleep a few hours ago."

Harry turned and looked back through the sliding glass door towards the kitchen; he didn't remember seeing any dirty cups or plates in the sink. "Did you get something to eat?"

Sirius nodded his head. "I found some stuff in the kitchen earlier." He paused and then glanced up at Harry with an amused twinkle glimmering in his eyes. "There was enough food in there to feed the whole nation."

An embarrassed grin spread on the young man's face as he looked down at his shoes. "I don't know why I do that. I usually end up throwing most of it in the trash anyways. I guess I don't ever want to go hungry again." The smile on his face faded as flashbacks of his childhood played out in his mind. His eyes become downcast as he thought back to those years spent in the Dursley home; having to survive on morsels of cheese stolen from the kitchen and the sleepless nights spent holding his growling stomach.

Seeing the look on Harry's face, Sirius wrapped his arm around his godson's waist and pulled him close to his side. "Let's go for a walk. I think a trot around the garden will do us both some good. Plus, I need the exercise."

Harry took his godfather's hands in his, slowly pulling the man out of his wheelchair and onto his feet. The man then draped his arm around Harry's shoulder as they made their way around the grounds.

"This is a really nice place you've got here," said Sirius, looking around the estate. "You've really done well for yourself."

Sirius began to drag his feet as the two men continued down the tree-lined stone path. Harry looked up at him when he noticed the man making wheezing noises. "Are you all right? We can sit down if this is too much for you."

"No, I'm fine. I just have to get used to the physical activity." Sirius took a deep breath. "It feels really good to be on my feet again."

Harry wrapped his arm around the man's back. "Everyone will get such a kick out of seeing you at the wedding. I can't wait to see their faces when they see you standing up. You'll have to thank Snape for getting that potion to you."

Harry looked at his godfather, who now had an unpleasant expression on his face. That was the same look he made at the hospital when he was told that it was none other than the Potions Master who delivered the vial of antidote to the nursing staff. Sirius had initially refused to take the medicine, saying, "I'd rather be crippled for life than be in that man's debt." But the look on Harry's face had encouraged him to put past hatreds aside, for the moment.

"I'll thank him," Harry said quickly. "You don't have to." He then thought of how he would go about completing the arduous task, as numerous attempts to contact the elusive professor had already been unsuccessful. Several of the letters he had already sent had been returned unopened.

As the two men walked around the flower garden Sirius said, "Why don't we go down to the lake? I love it down there."

"You've already been there?"

Sirius lifted his head to the sun, letting the rays hit his face. "Yes. I couldn't help but run around this morning. It felt really good to be out in the open." In his animal form, Sirius was unaffected by the Dark Wizard's curse and could move around freely. "After spending two months in that hospital," he continued, "I really needed to get some fresh air."

"Did you see the guesthouse?" asked Harry, pointing to the Victorian house situated on the outskirts of the lake. "It's really roomy in there; it has three bedrooms. I hope you like the location. It's far enough away from the main house so you can have your privacy just in case you decide to invite a certain blonde nurse over for a visit." Harry nudged him in the side.

Sirius gave him a hard look, and then glanced away, hiding the smile developing on his face. "You're a cheeky one," he said, finally letting out a laugh.

"Anyway, I'm having some ramps put in there so you can move around while you regain your streg--"

"You don't have to do this. I can stay at the medical center. It was actually quite comfortable."

Harry stopped walking and looked at him. "Yes, I have to do this. This is the kind of thing family members do for each other. And I don't want you staying miles away at some center. I want you close by, so I can keep an eye on you. I don't want to rely on strangers to take care of you."

"I'll be perfectly fine in a couple of months. I just need to develop the muscles in my legs again, and I'm doing that. I don't want you to think that you're responsible for me." He turned his head and looked the other way. "I've already been a big burden on you. You're always helping me; bringing me food when I was in hiding, clearing my name, now this. You're a young man and I'm sure you don't want your godfather hanging around all the time."

Harry glanced at Sirius' eyes for a moment to check if the man was serious about what he was saying. Unfortunately, his godfather looked away too quickly. "Don't say that," Harry muttered. "And you're not a burden. I want you around. I need you around me." He directed his godfather to an iron bench, where they both sat down. "I don't want my children to grow up thinking their father has no family of his own. With you around, I don't feel like an orphan."

"But you already have a family, the Dur-"

"Don't say their name," Harry nearly shouted. His eyes dropped to his hands when he observed the startled expression on the other man's face. He then lowered his voice to a whisper. "You're my family. You're the closest thing to a father that I have."

Harry then felt Sirius' arm tighten around him. Glancing at his godfather's face, their eyes locked onto one another. Harry was able to detect some glistening in the other man's eyes. Both men looked away, as they feared that any longer a glance would result in embarrassing consequences for either of them.

"What about Cho?" Sirius asked after they had enough time to calm their aroused emotions. "What does she think about your plans?"

Harry continued to look straight ahead, not acknowledging that his godfather had spoken.

"Harry," Sirius said again.

Harry lifted his hand and began to rub his neck. "She doesn't know yet." His godfather opened his mouth to say something, but Harry continued to talk before he had a chance to utter a word. "But don't worry, things will work out. She'll understand."

Sirius' brows were still creased as he looked at the young man. "I thought you already told her."

"I will," Harry mumbled under his breath. He then fixed his eyes on a squirrel as it drank from the birdbath. But even the small animal's activities could not distract Harry from the fierce stare he was now receiving from the other man. After several minutes of heavy silence, he said, "Please don't give me that look. Cho and I will discuss this later and I just know she'll be happy with the idea." He gave his godfather a determined gaze. "Regardless of what she thinks, you're here to stay. You almost got taken from me, but not anymore."

Sirius managed a smile. "How did you grow up to be such a good kid?" He brought his hand onto Harry's neck. "Your parents would be proud of the person you've become."

"Hey Harry," came Seamus' voice as it echoed through the air.

Harry turned towards the house and could see a small figure waving at him from the open doors.

Sirius removed his arm from around the young man's shoulders. "Why don't you go join your friends? I'll be fine." He got up from the bench without any assistance and took a few steps from the young man to prove he could cope on his own. "I'm capable of walking around by myself."

"Okay. But when you come back to the house, make sure you're in dog form. I don't want the guys to know you can walk yet." Harry stayed by and watched as his godfather walked away. After he had gotten ample demonstration that the man was sturdy on his feet, he headed back to the mansion.

All the men were congregated in the living room, as Justin showed them how to turn on the television without using magic. "See, this is what's called a remote control," said Justin, lifting the instrument and showing it to everyone. "You use it to change channels."

The group of men seemed unimpressed. "Big deal," said Seamus. "You could just as easily use your wand."

Seamus and Justin stopped talking and poked one another when Harry walked in through the sliding glass doors. Everyone grew silent, as they watched Harry's every move.

"What?" asked Harry as he felt everyone's eyes on him.

"Look at that strut," commented Justin. "That is the walk of a man who got some from his lady last night."

Harry rolled his eyes as the men erupted into laughter.

The loud laughing startled Ron out of his daze as he lay across one of the sofas, his long legs dangling off the edge. His eyes covered by dark sunglasses, he began to rub his temples. He made a moaning noise as he turned to the other men. "What the hell are you guys laughing at?"

"Harry had a little rendezvous with Cho last night," said Seamus. "And I bet you a million galleons that they did the deed."

Normally that statement would have peaked Ron's interest, causing him to stand up in his seat - headache or no headache - and cross-examine his friend for the tidbits. But he merely glanced at Harry for a moment, and then looked away.

Harry looked around for a place to sit, before settling down on the floor next to Neville's seat. He lightly touched the round-face man on the knee. "Thanks so much for taking him home. How was he?"

Neville lowered his voice and said, "He threw up on me twice. But other than that, it was a pretty calm night. He just fell asleep the moment I got him to my house."

Harry furrowed his brows. "Your house? Why did you guys go to your place?"

"Ron has a spell on his place that keeps people from apparating in there. And he lost his key, so we had to go to my place."

Harry turned back to the redhead who was now moaning every so often when anyone dared speak over a whisper around him. "Ron, why aren't people allowed to apparate into your place?"

"Because too many fans were popping up in my living room. It was cool when I had the pretty busty girls appearing out of nowhere, but then I got some ugly girls there as well."

"You can program the spell so only your friends and family members can apparate."

"Yeah, I know. But I don't want my mum coming in there and finding me in a compromising position. What if I'm fuc--with a girl on my living room couch and my mum just happens to appear with my laundry, as she always does? That would be really embarrassing."

Harry gave Ron a long look and then shook his head. "Anyway, did you get some rest?"

"Not really," said Ron. "It was kinda hard to sleep with Neville's headboard banging against the wall."

"What?" Seamus asked excitedly. Sensing there would be some sex in the explanation, he and Justin both scrambled from their seats and sat at the foot of the couch.

Ron surveyed his audience, who were both on the floor, eagerly waiting for him to talk. "Well, it seems like Harry is not the only person who was with a girl last night. Neville also had some company."

Neville slouched down in his seat. "Don't listen to him." He looked around; all eyes were on the young man with the oversized shades.

"Anyway," continued Ron, "Padma came over last night. And I could hear them going at it."

"We weren't doing anything. We were just laying on the bed, talking."

Ron sat up and gingerly took off his sunglasses. He squinted and made a face when the sun's rays washed across his face. He held his hands over his eyes before lying back down on the couch once more. He glanced at Neville through reddened eyes. "If you weren't doing anything, how come I could hear the bedsprings?"

"My bed creaks," Neville responded.

"Neville don't lie. Your walls are pretty thin and I could hear everything. You must have been giving it to her really good because I could hear her moaning."

Neville let an audible choking noise escape from his mouth and brought his hands to his reddening face.

"Towards the end of it," continued Ron, "she began to scream. 'Oh Neville,'" Ron said, imitating the young woman's shouts of passion. The redhead lifted his pelvis off of the couch and began to rub his hands up and down his chest in a suggestive manner. "'Give it to me hard.'"

Harry lowered his head; his face a mixture of disgust and fascination as his friend continued to imitate what he assumed was happening in the next room, complete with grunts and pelvic thrusts.

"'Faster,'" Ron went on. "'Give it to me with your three inch--'"

A pillow came flying at Ron and hit him on the nose. Ron finally stopped moaning and put on his shades once more. Justin and Seamus kept their hands over their mouths, exchanging looks with one another and glancing over their shoulder at Neville. Everyone seemed to have a smile on his face; even Dean, who had spent the majority of the time with a dour expression, was smiling.

"Seems like our Neville is quite the stud," said Ron, as he tipped off an invisible hat to the other man.

Harry looked over at the embarrassed man, as he pondered whether the story was real. Ron's tales were always immersed with half-truths, no matter how entertaining they might be. Harry considered if Neville was capable of bringing a woman to those sexual heights. Maybe, he thought. The round-faced man had grown slightly more confident in himself and had improved physically, so it was possible. Harry looked away, not wanting to think anymore about it.

Wanting to take the focus away from the man sitting next to him, Harry got to his feet and said, "All the tuxes got delivered last night." He went to the corner of the room and picked up the boxes and began to hand them out to the five men. "I think you'll find everything you need inside: the tuxes, some toiletries and shoes."

All the men began to open their boxes, except for Ron and Dean. Harry turned towards his redheaded friend. "Why aren't you wearing a tux?"

A slight smile formed on Ron's lips. "I have my own outfit at home."

A weary look spread across Harry's face. He approached the sofa and sat on the floor next to Ron. "Please tell me that the outfit you're wearing resembles a tux in some shape or form. Please."

Ron placed a limp hand on his friend's shoulder. "Don't worry," he said casually. "It'll be spectacular."

Harry continued to stare at him, but soon gave up after realizing Ron was not going to volunteer any more information. He glanced over at Neville, who was still slumped over in his chair as he avoided Justin and Seamus' stares and giggles. "Neville, I have some news that might cheer you up."

Neville threw him a hopeful glance.

"Snape isn't coming to the wedding. He was supposed to send in his RSVP by this morning, and I still haven't received anything." Harry discerned how the other man's face became relaxed, almost happy.

"But knowing Snape," said Ron, "he'll show up unexpectedly, curse everyone with a bad case of diarrhea and leave."

Everyone slowly turned in his direction and gave him a hard look. "That is the most disgusting thing I've ever heard," said Harry as he made a face.

"But it's true."

Harry waited several minutes until the ghastly image had vanished from everyone's minds before talking again. "I was thinking we could leave here for the ceremony at four. That will give us plenty of time to-"

A ringing noise began to drift from the kitchen. "I guess the food's here," said Justin. He tilted his head towards the ceiling and began to sniff the air. "And from the smell of it, I can tell you ordered it from the Hogsmeade Corner Bakery." He turned and looked at Seamus, who was starting to get up from the floor. The two men stared at each other for a moment, before they both raced into the kitchen.

Ron rolled onto his side and glanced at Neville. "Could you bring me a sandwich while you're in there?"

Neville looked him up and down. "Why can't you get it?"

"Well, I'm suffering from a hangover. I might trip and knock over the trays of food. And I don't think you'd want that on your conscious."

Neville sighed loudly and got up from his seat. "Fine," he muttered as he headed to the kitchen.

Harry hit Ron on the shoulder. "You really shouldn't take advantage of him like that. He helped you out last night."

"I'm not taking advantage of him. He likes doing stuff for me. He's better than having a house-elf." Ron turned and looked at the entrance leading to the kitchen "What's taking him so long? He's been gone for ages. I think he's starting to rebel." He got to his feet, placing his hand on Harry's head for leverage and messing up the green-eyed man's hair in the process.

"Oh little house-elf," Ron shouted as he staggered to the kitchen. "Your master is very upset with you."

Harry looked around the room; besides Ron's, Dean's box lay unopened. He got up from the floor and went to join the others. He spotted Dean sitting at the dining room table, stabbing his food with his knife. Harry took his seat across from him.

"You didn't even look inside your box," commented the green-eyed man. "There's a bottle of that cologne that you like so much in there and some-"

"I'm not going," Dean mumbled as he stared down at his food.

Harry leaned forward in his chair. "Why not?

"I just don't think I should." The young man didn't look at Harry as he talked.

"If you think I'm mad about you liking Cho, don't. I'm okay with that. I would really like you there."

Dean stayed quiet for a moment. "I'd rather not. It's nothing against you." Finally placing his fork down on the table and pushing the plate away, he sat back in his chair. "Did you go to her place?"

"Yeah." Harry carefully watched the expression on Dean's face as it began to change. "But we didn't do anything," he added quickly. "We just talked about the wedding."

"Why should I care? It's really none of my business what you guys do." Dean began to drum his nails on the table, his tempo growing faster and faster. After a moment, he stopped and looked up at Harry. "Does she still have that stuffy old house-elf Olga?"

"Yes," said Harry. "Good old Olga--" He stopped talking. "How do you know about her?"

"I've met her a couple of times."

Harry's mouth opened slightly as he eyed the other man.

"Don't worry," said Dean, "I was only at her house for a short time. Plus, her parents didn't really like me." He got to his feet and stretched. "Hey, do you mind if I take a nap in one of the guestrooms for a little bit? I still haven't recovered from last night."

Harry shook his head. He then watched as the other man made his way down the hall, finally choosing the room overlooking the orchard for his nap. Harry stayed in his seat for a long time as he thought back to what Dean had said. He then got up and joined the other guys near the bar.

"I don't really remember what happened," Justin was saying to the other men. "Everything is pretty much a blur after we left the club--by the way, Ron you missed quite a show." He slapped the redhead on the back. "All the ladies were asking about you."

Ron moved away and gave him a hard look. "Could you please not hit me? I still feel a little nauseous." He placed his hands on either side of the bar and lowered his head.

Harry touched the other man's shoulder. "Are you all right? You don't look well."

"I'm fine," Ron muttered. "I'm just a little woozy. I think I need to lay down for a minute." He turned to Neville. "Do you mind escorting me back to the couch?"

Neville huffed loudly, but then approached the other man, letting him wrap his arm around his shoulder. He struggled to get the redhead to the living room, bumping into several walls in the process.

Harry looked down at this watch. He had two hours before the Weasley clan and the photographer would be congregating at his home. If he wanted to complete his two visits, he would have to do it now. "I have to get going," he said.

"You getting cold feet?" asked Justin.

Seamus walked to his side and whispered into Harry's ear, "If you've decided to call it off, you could always hide out at my place. I won't tell anyone." He then pulled back from the man and winked at him.

Harry playfully pushed him away. "No, I'm not having second thoughts. I just need to run a few errands."

Neville walked into the kitchen and picked up a plate. The other three men eyed him as he began filling the plate with assorted sandwiches and desserts. Seeing the way everyone was glaring at him, the round-faced man said, "No, I haven't fallen off of my diet. This stuff is for Ron. I guess he's not feeling nauseous after all."

Harry watched as Ron's house-elf went back to the living room with the food. He bid Seamus and Justin goodbye before disapparating .

***********************************************************************

Normally, Harry would not have apparated into someone's home without any advance notice, but he didn't think she would mind. Besides, he didn't have much time for formalities, for he had to rush over to Cho's before the photographers reached her house.

The flat seemed eerily quiet. He had expected the three girls to be bustling around the place as they prepared themselves for the ceremony, but he found himself standing in the living room alone. The only noise in the room was the creaking of the floorboards and the ticking of the clock hanging on a nearby wall.

"Hi," he said to the cat lying in the chair in front of him. The cat lifted his head when he heard the man's voice and casually looked him up and down. Deeming Harry uninteresting, he went back to his task of licking his paws.

Harry made his way down the narrow hallway to Hermione's bedroom. He stood before the door and stared at it for a moment. He was about to knock, when the door creaked open. He stayed where he was, lest he walked in and saw her getting dressed. "Hey Herm," he said, making his presence known. No one answered.

He took a quick glimpse into the room and that's when he saw her laying on her bed. He approached her bed and sat down next to her. "Herm," he whispered. The woman did not respond. He leaned down and looked at her sleeping face. His hand then brushed against her cheek as he pushed away the few strands of hair that were stuck to her skin.

Harry got up from the bed and prepared to leave, but something kept him put. He looked around the nearly empty room until he spotted her small vanity in the corner. He approached the table and looked down at all the feminine beauty products that were scattered about. He picked up her hairbrush and pulled out a long strand of hair that was stuck to the bristles. The wooden brush was a lot simpler than the silver-plated one that Cho possessed. He placed the instrument back in its place.

He then reached for the tube of lipstick that lay nearby. He opened the top and twisted the handle, eyeing the light pink color of the cosmetic. When he had seen all of the lipstick that he needed to see, he reached for her bottle of perfume. The small glass jar was still full, although he had given it to her the previous year. At school, he had often witnessed her spraying the fragrance on a tissue, before lightly dabbing the paper on her neck and wrists.

He brought the bottle to his nose and closed his eyes. That was the same fragrance she had worn the night before. Memories of their street encounter flooded his mind as he continued to take deep breaths from the bottle. The sights and sounds that were present at the exact moment when she kissed him came rushing back, so strongly that he nearly let the bottle slip from his fingers. He opened his eyes as the images became too much for him to bear, and placed the bottle back in its place.

As he thought of leaving, he heard the bed behind him creaking. He turned around.

Hermione was sitting up on her bed, her head resting against the headboard, staring at him. He eyed her face, noticing that her hair was a lot neater than it had been when she was asleep; she had clearly been awake for some time. He then thought back to his exploration of her possessions, wondering if she had been witness to the activities. If she had, she did not give anything away, as her eyes stayed expressionless.

"I just came by to see how you're doing," Harry said after a few minutes. "I was just about to leave. But I guess I'll stay, now that you're awake." He eyed her, observing the jeans and t-shirt that she had on. "How come you're not dressed?"

He then stared at the gown as it lay on a pile on the floor. He picked up the dress and held it close to his face, examining the little beads. "Didn't it fit? I saw you try it on at the store and you looked gre--"

"Why didn't you tell me yourself?" she asked.

"Tell you what?"

She crossed her arms tightly against her chest. "Don't play dumb with me." Her eyes narrowed, a matter of all seriousness in their depths. "You could have come over here and told me yourself that you changed your mind."

Harry's head was still lowered as he looked at the dress, remembering the sight of her in the garment at the dress shop.

"Why did you even bother coming over here last night?" she asked.

"To ask you to come to the wedding of course." He placed the dress gently on the back of a chair and turned around again as he fumbled with her possessions once more. He looked over at the bottle, as the fragrance that lay within was suddenly becoming unbearable. He pushed the glass container away.

He picked up a small metal contraction that was lying near his hands and brought it to his face. "What in the world is this?" He twirled the instrument around to figure out what it could be, but was left with no answers.

Hermione swiftly grabbed the eyelash curler out of his hands. "Will you cut that out?"

Harry took a step backwards and drew his brows together. "Cut what out?" He observed the tense look on her face and her narrowing eyes. "What's wrong?"

"You know exactly what's wrong." She placed the curler back on her vanity, a little too forcefully because the table began to shake. "You coming here last night gave me the impression that you cared whether or not I was at the wedding. Like it meant so much to you."

She sat down on the edge of her bed and lowered her head. "I spent all last night thinking I was really special to you," she continued. "But how fast your decisions can be changed."

"What are you talking about?"

Her head began to slowly lift and she shot him a hard stare.

Harry's body tensed. He had seen the look often during their years together; it always appeared when she and Ron were involved in one of their shouting matches. His first response was to try to move away, as he often knew what would accompany that stare.

But she did not get up from the bed. "You should have come over here," she said, "and told me in person instead of sending her to do it. You were too tired, my ass. When you were over here, you didn't look tired." She gave him a long look before switching positions on her bed and sitting with her back turned to him.

"Wait a minute," said Harry. "Are we having a fight?" He stared at her back for some answers, but she did not turn around. He made his way towards her and stood behind her for several minutes, before bringing his hand down on her shoulder. "Herm, what's--"

She pushed his hand away. "It would have been better to hear it from you." She turned around and looked up at his face. "Don't you think I understand the kinda pressures you're under? I would have understood perfectly well if you told me in person. I know that your priorities now lie with your wife. I would not have been mad with your decision."

The bedsprings creaked noisily as he sat down next to her. He was in the process of wrapping his arm around her, when he stopped himself. "What did I do to make you this upset?"

"It's not what you did, but what you didn't do." She shot up from the bed and began to walk around her room, alternating from wringing her hands to throwing him hard glances. "It's always your inaction that is at the root of every problem."

"My inaction? What do you call last night? I came here to ask you--let me rephrase that; I came here and practically begged you to come today."

"You did one thing right," she scoffed. "Big deal."

Harry followed her with his eyes as she walked to the mirror. When he looked at her reflection, she scowled at him and quickly moved to her window.

"Do you know how humiliated I was this morning?" she asked. "It was devastating enough having to initiate a conversation with her. Hearing the news from her hurt me so much. The way she said it." She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Why are you looking at me like you don't know what on earth I'm talking about?"

"Because I don't know what on earth you're talking about," he replied matter-of-factly.

She whirled around. "You're always doing this. I tell you the obvious and you pretend not to know anything. Just like last night, when you first came here. You were sitting there denying everything between us. And here you are doing the same thing, pretending you know nothing."

He opened his mouth to say something, but she held up her hand. "But it's okay. I now understand that's how you get on with your life. You just pretend everything is fine. But let me tell you something Harry Potter...."

She began to inch towards him, her finger pointed at his face. "If you want to tell me something," she continued, "you better do it yourself. You don't send your significant other to do the dirty work for you."

He moved his head to the side, lest her finger made contact with his face. He then grabbed her hand and tried to pull her down onto the bed, but she moved away from him.

She stomped to the corner of the room and grabbed the dress from the back of the chair. She lifted the garment over her head as though she was going to fling it across the room, but hesitated. She brought the dress down again and admired it. When she lifted her head, her eyes locked with Harry's for a brief moment.

Harry watched as she knelt down and grabbed something from the floor. Before he could react or move out of the way, a shoe came whizzing by the side of his face. He flinched and lifted his hand to his face when the pointy heel made contact with his cheek.

She was holding the second shoe in her hand, but let it drop to the floor and hurried to his side. "Did I hurt you?" she asked. "I didn't mean for it to actually hit you." Her fingers traveled along his skin, as she inspected the superficial scrape on his cheek.

Seeing that she was preoccupied, Harry grabbed hold of her wrist and squeezed hard - not enough to hurt her, but enough to prevent her from walking away. "What on earth is going on with you?" he asked in a tight voice. His body trembled, as he tried hard to suppress his anger. "I've come here to try to talk to you and you start acting like a maniac."

Hermione looked down at his hand and then at him. He immediately released her arm. She walked to the far end of the room and leaned against the wall, her eyes downcast.

"I know why you're mad at me," he said. He watched as she lifted her head and bestowed on him a condescending look. "I guess things happened really fast last night; I came over here and we started talking about the past, but never got a chance to resolve it. But I swear that once I get back from my honeymoon, you and I can talk about it."

He examined her face for some reassurance that she accepted his plans, but her features were getting more and more tense.

"I'm sorry for leaving you the way I did last night," Harry went on. "I should have at least said goodbye, instead of disappearing like I did. But I had to hurry back to Cho."

"Is that when you guys had your little discussion about me?" she asked.

"How did.yeah."

"Who brought it up?"

Harry looked down at his hands. "I did. She was asking me if I was hungry and I told her how I ate at your place. And that's when we starting talking about you coming to the wedding."

Hermione's body slid down along the wall, until she was sitting with her knees to her chest. "Is that when you guys made your decision," she asked, looking down at the floor.

"Yeah." Harry got up from the bed and sat down on the floor next to her. He flung an arm around her shoulders and looked down at her face. With his free hand, he moved her hair away as it obscured his view of her eyes. "Why are you still upset with me? I told you everything that happened."

"I know." She raised her head and glanced at him. "That's the part that upsets me the most. That you can sit there and tell me about your chat with Cho without a shred of sadness or remorse in your voice shocks me."

She brushed his hand off her shoulder and stood up. "And all this time, I was thinking it was her idea. But I guess it was yours." She walked around the room, collecting the gown and the shoes. She placed all the items into the box. "Here you go. All the things are inside. Now you can give it to your wife, but I doubt she would want secondhand goods."

"But you need all these things for the wedding," said Harry. He took the box, and looked at the shimmering articles inside. "I hope you don't think they're too extravagant for the occasion. "

He placed the box on the bed and walked towards Hermione. He brought his hands to her face, as he pushed her hair behind her ears. "You're gonna look absolutely dazzling tonight. But I think there's something missing." He reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a small box. "I bought these a couple of days ago. I thought they would go well with the outfit."

She took the small container from his hands and flipped open the lid.

Harry stood by as he watched the way she eyed the gift. He rocked on his feet, as he awaited her response. She looked up at him and then down at the gift. Although she didn't say anything and her face remained expressionless, her excitement was clearly visible in her eyes. A smile crept onto Harry's face. He took the earrings out of the box and gingerly positioned them onto her ears.

Hermione went to the mirror and eyed the sapphire studs. Harry walked up behind her. "I knew they would make the outfit complete." He placed his hands on her shoulders and watched as they jewels glittered. "Now, why don't you start getting dressed, so you'll be ready in time for the pictures?"

"I'm not going," she muttered.

"Don't be silly. Of course you are." He began to make his way to the door, as he was now late for his other visit. "I was thinking the photographer could take your picture near the lake. Wouldn't that make a great backdrop?" He looked back at her; she hadn't moved from her spot. "Why are you still standing there?"

"Because I'm not going." She picked up the box of clothes and handed it back to him. "I just can't go, it'll be too embarrassing. Plus, people will be asking me questions."

"Herm, I want you there. What could have made you change your mind about attending?"

"What?" Her face twisted with frustration. "How can I possibly attend after this morning? I'll be made a laughing stock."

"Laughing stock? No one will be laughing at you." He reached out for her arm, but she pushed him away.

"I just can't bear to go," she uttered. "Why can't you understand that? You and your future wife have put me in this unfortunate position."

He continued to stare at her, not knowing what to say to relieve her stress and only comprehending half of what she was on about. Those eyes staring back at him were so similar to the ones he'd seen last night, when her distress was at a high. He tried to say something, but no words came to mind.

"Just leave me alone," she finally said after an extended period of silence. "I'm not going and that's that. But don't take it personally now. Just like I didn't take it personally this morning."

Before Harry could say anything, she pushed him out of her room and shut the door in his face.