If You Change Your Mind

If You Change Your Mind

Chapter 1

Hermione stared intently at the congregating orchestra, reveling in the feeling of being able to experience a simple magic; the magic of music. Her eyes roamed over the stage and eventually stopped at her date, her boyfriend rather, of three years. He was sitting comfortably beside her with his arm draped across her lap. She leaned over and whispered in his ear.

"I'm happy to be here."

He smiled and turned his head to face her.

"You deserve it love. You make me so happy; I think you should be able to experience me and what I can offer."

Hermione's smile faltered and she asked softly, "What can you offer?"

He stiffened a bit, something Hermione did not fail to notice.

"Well, it's common knowledge that I can't be a part of your world..."

Hermione frowned and took his hand in hers.

"James, don't start that again..."

James winced and focused on something in front of him before turning to look at her again.

"Listen to me. I am not about to start some self-deprecating tirade. I just want you to be a part of the magic that I can offer..." he trailed off at the end, glancing at the saxophonists taking their place. He looked back at Hermione.

"Music, love. That is magic that I can show you and know you'll love it, because you're magical in all ways and we can share this...together."

Hermione sighed wistfully and watched as he focused his attention on the stage. The lights dimmed and she rested her head on his shoulder, while he held her hands in his left hand. The first notes were bellowed into the hall by the trombones, followed by the trumpets and Hermione began to relax, allowing herself to be swept away by the sound of music. Her mind wandered, as she was lulled into the deep creases of her imagination.

Her birthday would be the next day and she was going to be twenty-seven. Time had flown and she could not believe that she would be thirty in three years. She had been depressed lately, and James was trying his hardest to cheer her up and show her life does not end once she had thirty years under her belt. James. He was a darling, a wonderful man, truly supportive. He was an editor for a small magazine in London that was rapidly growing and would one day soon, be a major success. He was ambitious and dedicated, yet considerate. He let his work consume his life, but the minute Hermione would tell him that he needed to spend some time with her, which was not often, he would drop his work and rush to her side. Hermione felt secure, he did not mistreat her in any way and he looked after her. He was fifteen years her senior and surprisingly, she did not mind. He had just turned forty-two in May and even though he was that much older, he did not have much grey hair, which was barely distinguishable against the blonde. He was tall and lanky and he wore glasses over his youthful dark brown eyes, but Hermione encouraged him to wear his contacts.

"Makes you look younger," she would always say. So, tonight he had in his contacts.

They did as much as they could together. He liked running, so she ran a lot with him even though she hated it, but he was there when she needed him, so it was a fair trade. He knew how she liked her coffee; black with two teaspoons of sugar. He always offered to run errands, pay the bills, go grocery shopping, but she did not let him all the time. "We're equals!" she would remind him.

If she was stressed at work, she would apparate home, call him on the phone and he would be there in a jiffy to hold her, rub her back and stop her tears before they started. She would sometimes need more and if this was the case, he would give her more...they would have sex on the carpet. She involuntarily inhaled a deep breath at the many accounts of this experience. She remembered the feel of the rough, prickly surface of the material beneath her, all over her skin. He pounded mercilessly into her, grunting with each push. She felt the film of his sweat leave a trail on her front, the way her breast moistened and how the under section stuck to her skin.

Despite his calm and settled exterior, James was a sex fiend. He worked her until she was sore; she always felt like a newly cracked virgin at the end of each encounter. The positions changed all the time; it did not matter to her. His favourite thing to do on those stress filled days was to tear off her clothes, and press her to the ground, before he would hastily rip his shirt off and unbuckle his pants to shove them to his knees. Starting his motions, no foreplay necessary, he forced her legs open to the widest point they could go. She had to admit that this commanding way of his would drive her wild, and this was what she needed on those stressful days. With her legs over his shoulders, he would continue his mission to drive her to a mind-spinning climax... that left her in incredible pain at the end. She did not allow herself to mind; after all, he did drop his work to satisfy her urges. In a way, it was her punishment for distracting him. The belt buckle would slap against her rear, but she did not care. She would be acutely aware of his grunts and the way his bit his lip, all the while maintaining eye contact with her. She would clutch at his hair and pull his head back. He said he loved when she did that, because she was at her most vulnerable. She could feel him watching through steely eyes as her own would roll back into her head, and her lips would part, her tongue poking into her cheek. He would reach around her leg and grope her where they were connected. When she gasped helplessly, he would smile, almost cynically. He watched, as she would almost cry at the sheer intensity of what he was doing to her, and in her state of mind at that moment, she would love it. As she came, he would continue going at her like a piece of meat and she would cry out over and over again, each cry getting more desperate, but he would not relent, oh no, not until he felt satisfied. She would be so weak as one orgasm would hit her one after the other in rapid succession and he loved it, oh yes, he loved it. He would still be going and then, the unbelievable soreness would kick in. Pain...pain...pain, oh my, the pain. Pain would crack the pleasure and she would be wincing and biting her lip determinedly as he got off. She asked one time how he could last so long. He had smiled and kissed her cheek as he said, "Experience, love."

And just as she felt she could not take it anymore, she would feel his release flow through her and she would sigh in relief, which he always mistook for satisfaction. He would shudder and cry out helplessly as he collapsed against her. At this point she would remove her legs and he would fall against her, his head just below her breasts. The movement would almost dislodge him from inside her, but not quite. Although this made her feel even more pain, she would ignore it as she massaged his scalp, until he got his breathing back to normal. "Thank you," she would say, and he would smile sweetly and pull his member out of her with a slight pop. He would gather her into his arms and she remembered distinctly when he once said, "You are the sexiest woman alive when you make yourself weak for me. I like that control, because you're such a strong and determined woman otherwise."

She chanced a glance at James and noticed that a lock of hair had fallen across his forehead and curved towards his nose. She took the opportunity to examine his features. The smile lines around his eyes were very prominent and she could not help but think that those would not be there if he was a wizard, but then a darker voice chipped in.

"You can't find faults with age, Hermione; you should have got a younger man."

She brushed his hair away and he blinked in surprise before turning to look intently into her eyes. He placed a chaste kiss on her lips and she smiled at the gesture. At that moment, Hermione heard the sound of applause and she vaguely wondered with amusement if the people were clapping at them, before realizing the music had ended.

Once the concert was over, Hermione and James made their way out of the building. His arm was curved protectively around her back. She was just a tad bit annoyed by the gesture, but did not say anything. As Hermione stepped through the door, she heard a voice call out to her.

"Hermione?"

Hermione spun around, mainly to dislodge James' arm, and her eyes widened in shock. A tall man with dark hair was struggling through the crowd, trying to make his way towards her. He was carrying an instrumental case over his head, as he stumbled and pushed to get to her.

"Oh my," she said, breathlessly.

She failed to notice the frown that James directed at her. She took a step forward, but felt James grab on to her arm.

"What are you doing?" he asked in a rush.

Hermione shrugged him off, but he grabbed her again, this time by the shoulder. The other man stopped and blinked in confusion. His expression delayed Hermione's movement, and this gave James enough time to spin her around to face him. He pulled her closer and his eyes locked with her dazed ones.

"Baby," he whispered, his voice tinged with desperation, "Where are you going? Who is that man?"

Hermione gasped at the sudden realization that she was staring into the wrong face, and she felt a bubbling surge of resentment towards him for distracting her. She tried to pull away, but he held her tighter.

"Let me go," she gritted out as she pushed against his chest.

"No," he said with a wild look in his eyes that Hermione had never seen before. "Stay here with me, let's just go home...I," he seemed to be grasping for straws as his voice trailed off, "I...I want to make love to you."

Hermione just stared at him, a bit surprised at his behaviour. When she felt his grip loosen, she backed off and took the opportunity to turn around and make her way to the other man. Her heart stopped beating for a split second as she saw him dip through a side door and disappear. She ran as quickly as she could through the bustling crowd, calling his name. She was vaguely aware that James was following her, as she heard him shouting her name. She blindly pushed through the doors with urgency, and saw the retreating figure pass under a street lamp; the light only showed him for a moment. She broke out into a full sprint. Her footsteps drummed in her ears at the same rate as her heart beat. The man turned around and dropped the case he was carrying, as he opened his arms to her. She jumped into his embrace and burst into tears, crying on his shoulder.

"Oh Harry," she choked out.

*******

Harry held on to Hermione tightly. He closed his eyes and cherished the feeling of having this woman in his arms.

"Hermione! What is the meaning of this?"

His moment of bliss was short lived when he opened his eyes at the sound of the voice, and saw a gentleman who looked older than him, standing there with fury in his eyes. He felt Hermione stiffen in his arms and slowly lowered herself to the ground in order to stand and face the new comer.

"James," she began.

At the sound of what must have been the man's name, he flinched and turned his head away to look into the street.

"Are you cheating on me?" he asked softly, his voice quivering a bit.

Warning signals went off in Harry's brain and he swore he was going to overload. Cheating? Why would Hermione be cheating if...

He looked at Hermione, who was now studying him and what must have been a shocked look on his face.

"Harry, this is James McVernon. We have been seeing each other."

Harry felt as if a sledgehammer had been swung into his heart. He gasped audibly and Hermione closed her eyes tightly.

"James, this is Harry Potter."

Harry noticed that Hermione did not give him a title when she introduced him, unlike James' introduction, which included the fact he was her boyfriend. Harry was not even aware of himself at that moment, so his expression was blank when he faced Hermione. His mind was whirling with so many questions.

"How?" he asked.

"What do you mean how?" James demanded. He was now glaring at Harry with utmost hatred.

"James," Hermione said pleadingly.

"Don't patronize me Hermione!" He shouted at her and Harry instinctively stiffened, preparing to react if James took the liberty of striking her. "I feel like a fool!"

Harry was beginning to feel uncomfortable, due to the number of people walking by on the sidewalk and glancing over quickly, before carrying on.

Hermione reached out to James and he took her hands in his. Harry scowled at this.

"Hermione, I feel stupid and used! You have been sleeping with this man and stringing me along, how could you do that?" He asked, his voice now at a reasonable level. Hermione was shaking her head the whole time.

"No James. I have not been sleeping with Harry."

James' bottom lip quivered and he gathered her into his arms with care, as though he were afraid she might shatter before him if he held her too tightly.

Harry felt distinctly out of place. He wanted nothing more than to disapparate, but he had not seen Hermione in seven years and he was not about to just leave without talking to her, to find out...to find out, where they stood in each other's lives.

Hermione gently backed away from James and moved to stand beside Harry. He watched as confusion spread over his opponent's face, yes opponent, and could not help but feel a bit elated.

"James, I have not seen Harry in so long..."

"I know that," the man cut in as he took a step forward. Hermione closed her eyes and then opened them. Harry saw determination and watched as she gathered the strength to say what she said next.

"I need to talk to him and..."

"What?" James asked weakly.

Hermione's breath shuddered as she inhaled deeply.

"I miss him James and I..."

A sinister and disturbingly dark look took over James' eyes as he focused them on Harry. Harry's eyes narrowed as he watched James advance on him. He could not react. It took him by surprise, and later when he looked back on this situation, he would feel disgusted with himself for allowing it to happen. A sudden, needle sharp pain rocketed through his mouth and up into his brain. He staggered backwards and gingerly touched his lip, realizing that this man had the audacity to slug him.

Harry glared menacingly, as he watched Hermione run up to James and pull him back, since he looked ready to keep beating up on Harry. James spat and the glob of saliva landed near Harry's shoe. He looked down at it as it settled on the concrete, and slowly looked up, without moving a muscle, at the man who was now smirking at him.

Hermione must have noticed the smirk, because at that point she slapped him across his face with a resounding CLAP. Harry was thankful that there was not anyone walking by at that moment.

"How dare you look so proud of yourself?" she yelled angrily.

James did not even look at her. His focus remained on Harry, who was now leaning against a lamppost, licking his lip to ease the dull ache. Hermione moved over to Harry.

"Where are we going to talk?" she whispered.

Harry looked down at her and his expression softened when he saw that her worried gaze was now focused on his rapidly swelling lip.

"Leaky..."

He did not even get to finish before she cut in with an, "Ok."

She grasped his hands and held his eyes with hers, as the silent agreement was made to apparate. They disappeared, but not before hearing James say her name.

****

Harry took the opportunity to look around the place he had not stepped foot in for seven years. Nothing had changed. Witches and wizards mumbled to themselves as they drained tankards of butterbeer, shot glasses of firewhiskey and goblets of flaming liquid. The whole crowd seemed drunk with merriment and alcohol. The air was musty and the pub only had a few torches that were lit, fastened to the stone and wooden walls by magic. Harry watched in amusement as a pimply under aged wizard with starking red hair lean over the counter and ask the barkeeper, Tom, for a glass of Dragon's Breath. Tom, infuriated by the question, stormed around the bar, grabbed the boy by his nose and dragged him, squealing like a pig, to the exit that led into Diagon Alley.

"And don't yer think yer can come in 'ere and ask for no breath, yer see here boy! I run an establishment 'ere, and I ain't going to Azkaban for gettin' no kid drunk!" The boy mumbled something in protest, but that infuriated Tom even more. "Jus' because no pub in muggle London would turn you away, that doe'nt mean I want your parents in 'ere after mi 'ead!"

With that, Tom slammed the door shut and furiously wiped his hands on his apron. He turned and jumped in surprise at seeing Harry and Hermione standing there.

"Oh, Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger!" he exclaimed happily. "It is so good to see you both! I am honoured to have you here!"

Harry laughed when Tom grabbed his hands to shake them. He winced a bit and rubbed his knuckles as Tom moved on to do the same to Hermione.

"Tom," Harry began, as he rubbed his palms together, "Do you have any rooms available for the night."

Hermione and Tom turned to face him. Tom's face was laced with glee, quite unlike Hermione's, who seemed shocked to say the least.

Tom nodded emphatically and whispered conspiratorially, "Right this way, Mr. Potter."

He led them back to the bar and he reached under the counter. He seemed to be rummaging for something. Harry and Hermione heard him mumble, "Aha," before he straightened up to hand them a key.

"Room number ten, Mr. Potter," Tom said, almost reverently, "It's got a king sized bed, a large tub in the loo for...whatever, and it's private and..."

"Thank you, Tom," Hermione cut in, her cheeks a bit flushed. She took the key hurriedly and blindly reached for Harry's arm to guide him up the stairs to Room Ten.

The door creaked open when Hermione pushed it and they both stepped inside in order to have the privacy for conversation the moment they ran into each other at the music centre. Harry moved around her to check out the room. The door closed with a creak and snip. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he took sure steps further into the room. He looked around and stood still for a minute. He could feel Hermione's eyes boring into his back and he sighed. Harry turned to face her and a shy smile crept onto his face. She looked lovely...absolutely gorgeous. His eyes roamed over her, taking in her hair, which started out wrapped in a tight bun, but now had a few wispy strands sticking up and flopping over. Her hair seemed to thin a bit with age, as it did not look as bushy as when he had left. Her eyes were the same. This thought comforted him. After not seeing her for so long, the thought that the windows to her soul would change made him inwardly shiver. If those changed then she would not be Hermione any more, his Hermione.

Her face seemed thinner and he could distinctly make out her cheekbones and her jaw line. She was wearing a graceful floor length dress. It was a pale yellow with rhinestone trimming at the end and thinning out further at the top. Her black coat was shrugged off one shoulder and he could make out the spaghetti straps that crossed across her chest and over her shoulders. She looked stunning and seeing her here, all dressed up but not perfect, as he was sure she was earlier on, made her seem even more attractive and sexy than anything else. He took a few tentative steps towards her and he noticed that her chest hitched. A sudden movement got his attention and he saw her fingers flexing and relaxing, something she did when she was nervous. This made him walk all the way up to her and take her hands in his.

"Relax," he said, "Don't be nervous."

She smiled and nodded.

"All right."

She loosened her grip on his hands and ran her palms up his arms and on to his shoulders. She paused, then her face crumpled, as she gently pulled him towards her in a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and held her while she cried. He could hear her muttering his name over and over as her body shook as she relieved all her bottled up emotions. The darkness of the room made him feel as if it was just the two of them and nothing else. No space, no furniture, just them and if they moved, drastic things would happen, life would be displaced. They stood there for a while, holding on to each other. Eventually her sobs died down and were replaced by the occasional sniffle. She lifted her head off his shoulder and her eyes met his. He lifted his hand off her waist to use his thumb and wipe her tears.

"There, now," he cooed softly, "Stop crying."

She nodded and her lips pressed themselves firmly together.

"I hate to see you cry."

Hermione inhaled deeply and looked away as her eyes filled with tears once more.

"I know."

********

Hermione turned away from him and took a few steps towards the bed. She weighed the options of sitting on it or to keep standing. Sitting won over standing and she slowly lowered herself on to the soft mattress. She played with her fingers for a while, well aware that Harry was still standing in the same position where she left him, regarding her.

She looked up and took the opportunity to give him a once over. His eyes were burning with intensity as he watched her. He looked...tired, emotionally drained, you name it. Exhausted. The left corner of his top lip was swollen and hanging over his bottom lip. It made him look lopsided. She felt herself smile and saw him smile in return.

"You are so handsome," she said softly.

"As you are beautiful," he said.

Silence again. He shrugged off his black knee-length coat and rubbed the back of his neck. The motion drew the black oxford shirt up and down his torso.

"Harry, we need to..."

"Talk," he said, finishing the sentence for her.

She nodded weakly. He sighed, making his way over to sit beside her. With his head held down, his eyes glazed over. Hermione reached out and touched his shoulder. Harry closed his eyes wearily and leaned sideways towards her. He rested his head on her shoulder and she rubbed his cheek for a while. They sat in companionable silence before she gently pushed him back to lie on the bed. His eyes snapped open at the change in position.

"Shh, take it easy," she said.

She felt the muscles in his chest loosen and she smiled reassuringly. Hermione kicked off her shoes and crawled up to lie beside him. She propped herself on her elbow to look down at him.

"How long is this going to take?" she asked.

Harry shook his head.

"I don't know. But we have all night...don't we?"

She nodded.

"All night."