Rain

He stares out at the rain.

Memories flood back and he's lost thinking, remembering, wishing. Stolen moments and hurried kisses, wrought with secrecy, desire and shame. The silk of expensive clothes and soft, aristocratic skin blend in his memory to form his lover. The way they would toy with each other, hurt each other, make each other cry out in lust.

***

The dungeons in Hogwarts are their favourite place to go. They fumble awkwardly, but the unmistakable desire is always evident as the panting of their breath mingles with their moans. At the end, there is always a stop, a jerk, and both of them sigh in unison. Without looking at each other, they fix their clothes and go. Sometimes he dreams about his lover. When that happens, he wakes up confused and angry. He doesn't love or even like this person, so why should they haunt his dreams?

This happened two years in school, and two out.

He calls this person his lover, but even now he realizes the inaccuracy. Lover, hater, fucktoy. All right, and all wrong.

Slowly, without them realizing it, their pattern changes. Shame disappears and love? No, it couldn't be love. Tolerance replaces (he refuses to wonder why his heart flutters when he sees his lover at the door, why he's never reacted this way with another person). But now, after they've finished, he stays, and they fall asleep in the other's arms. They even have a civil conversation. And he can finally say his lover's name without loathing.

They have a comforting pattern, but one day it is broken.

He's with his lover and he's almost at his climax, groaning while his lover teases him. He opens his eyes to entreat the lover and a gasp makes him look at the door. There, pale and wide-eyed, stands Hermione.

He forgets his lover, forgets his throbbing erection. Without bothering to throw clothes on, he rushes out of the room to explain to her.

"It was an accident!" "I'm cursed!" he claims. He doesn't know or care what he's saying, but he doesn't want her to hate him. Too late. Wet-faced and furious, she screams at him.

"Traitor," he is called. "God-damn, lying, traitorous, back-stabbing bastard!" She's hysterical, and he's on the ground, weeping. One last look, she spits, and leaves. He's left lying on the floor, the shame fresh on his lips.

Later, he finds a note. "You know where to contact me," it reads. Suddenly angry, he tears it up. It's not his fault, it's his lover's. It always was. He's not going back.

So he stays away. Days, weeks, months pass. Hermione has forgiven him, believes it was a curse and is busily researching for a cure. He even believes it might be curse, for there's a pain inside him and he feels like there's a gaping hole in his chest. It hurts and hurts and nothing will take it away.

Eventually, the feeling is too much and he caves in. He tries to send his lover an owl, but for an unfathomable reason, Hedwig just keeps coming back. Finally, he crawls back brokenly to his lover's apartment. He's never appeared more pathetic, but he's beyond caring. He just needs something - anything - to cure him. He arrives to find that his lover is gone. No one knows where. No forwarding address. His pupils grow so large they swallow the green of his irises, and the neighbours are disturbed. He hears something shatter and distantly, he wonders who it is who is screaming in the background. Claustrophobia flares up unexpectedly, and he's vomiting, crying, screaming, needing desperately to get out and find his salvation.

He toys with the idea that this feeling is love. But it couldn't be, because love is sweet, perfect and always happy, and he has never felt more like dying. So he goes home and feels his heart... break? No, he's sick, there's a curse. But even he can't explain the wetness on his cheeks.

He tries to explain to Hermione this feeling, but all she can do is research harder. Meanwhile, Ron takes him out and shows him a few of his new female 'friends'. He has sex with them, but they're nothing on his lover. Never again does he feel the way he did when he was with the lover.

***

He stares out at the rain, and from behind him, his wife wonders why he's crying.