Inbetween Nights

Two figures walked with much determined space between each other, one girl, one boy, and one sidewalk. The streets were bare of people, the moonlight giving off its inconspicuous glow, the warm and cold collaborating in the breeze; it was a perfect night to behold for lovers, if only they were lovers.

If only their fire headed friend was here, then they wouldn’t have felt as awkward. But both of them knew that that was not the case, and tonight is either going to be the night they tell each other everything or just let it be another night that slipped away from memory. He was resolute to just go straight back to Hogwarts without event, but she, as if the soft light from the lamppost gave her a push, wanted to know everything. And in return tell him all the thoughts, emotions, feelings, and desire that ate her up at night and exhausted her in the mornings.

“I am alone Harry,” she said in a slight voice, stopping so abruptly that it took the boy a few paces before he realized that she was no longer walking beside him.

“How could you be alone? I am here with you, so is Ron, we are your friends,” he said, not moving from his place.

“Friends, yes, they are quite wonderful, but some women would want lovers at one point in their lives, I am that woman, and this is that point in my life,” she said, her eyes fixed on an imaginary focus on her left.

“Are you not dating Marcus?” he asked, not letting her sultry voice lull him into dreams of her, of warm nights and dewy grass.

“It was one date, and I do not want him to be my lover,” she answered.

“Then why did you even go out with him?” he asked.

“Sometimes you are so tired of waiting for the one, that you just want to find someone,” she said, still not looking at him.

“How certain are you that the one you are waiting for is coming?” he asked, although he knew the answer for himself.

“Are you not?” she asked. He stood in silence, but her decision was indomitable. He was going to know everything, right at that moment, “You occupy the inner creases of my brain, when I wake up in the mornings, you frolic in my head, and when I go to sleep at night, you sleep with me in my heart. Being with you has shaped me into the person that I am, you molded me and I know that I have molded you, we have made each other into what we are today. I did not just fall in love with you, I have grown to love you. You are a part of me, like a tree is part of the earth, but the earth is lucky. It will only die a little if the tree is taken away from it, but if you were taken from me, I will die entirely. That is why, like any woman with a will of steel, I am not only willing to fight for you, but fight with you, if only you would let me.”

She inhaled deeply, and after a while, realizing that she was finally able to release everything that was buried in her heart, she let out a breath. She was relieved, no matter what happens now, she is aware that he knows. She felt one thorn plucked away from her heart, there were more, but now the pain was bearable.

He stood there, still not speaking, but she did not care. She now also realized how tired she was, and she did not plan on waiting for an answer from him with abated breathing. She backed up a little and leaned her back against the lamppost, pushing her head back against it and closing her eyes.

He watched her in this stance and was all of a sudden taken back to dreams of her, of warm nights and dewy grass.

The soft light cascaded down the breathtaking curve of her nose, the slight indention on her lower lip and the crescent of the lashes on her closed eyes, casting a smooth fusion of gleam and shadow on her face. Her inclined head allowed him to see the supple grace of her neck down to her shoulders, which nestled the soft curls of her hair. She clutched her clean, strong, yet gentle hands to her breasts, which were small and humble, not to be confused with mountains. He was very glad he was wearing his robes, otherwise she would easily tell how elated he was to see her. A goddess stood in front of him, and what does he have to offer her? He doesn’t even own his life, it was like an unspoken contract. When you are a hero, you are given fame, fortune, women if you want, men at your disposal, but in exchange, you are to be willing to give your life. How can a man with no life make a woman happy?

He found his voice, it was hard, but he finally did, “I want to give you my everything.”

“How quaint?” she answered, half-smiling, she was much too tired to entertain the drama in her life.

“But I do not own my everything,” he answered.

“I do not want your everything, I want you,” she said, her lips, the only part of her body that moved.

“But I am not a whole man,” he said.

“Really? I once saw you in the shower, I assure you, you are,” she said in a serious tone, but the amusement in her face could easily be read.

“I do not even own my life, Hermione,” he said so sadly that she was almost certain he was crying.

“Harry, no one owns their lives, it is but a borrowed gift,” she said, finally opening her eyes to look at him, “we come into this world with nothing, Harry, and we will leave with nothing. Everything that we call our own, it is but something that we find along the way. I have found you along the way Harry, haven’t you realized that you have found me as well?”

He walked towards her so he could drown into her intoxicating brown eyes, which she has deprived him of, ever since they came to stand by the lamp post. She craned her neck upwards so she too can look into his beautiful green eyes. Never had he had a more arduous moment, staring into her eyes, looking into her soul, reading her thoughts, her dreams, her fears, and her looking back at him, rummaging through his mind and heart wanting to know her. Just then he felt a sudden need to touch her, to assure she was there, that it was real and this was not a dream that he weaved into existence. He placed both his hands on her face and slowly but steadily brought his lips upon hers, kissing her lightly and opening his eyes every now and then to capture the exquisite flush in her face that only made him want to bring her closer to him. It was now impossible to open his eyes as all his attention was exploring the woman in front of him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, lifted her slightly and leaned themselves against the lamp post. Not satisfied with the pleasure of her lips, he brought his head up only to plant kisses on her beautiful bare neck. She moaned in reaction, only encouraging him more. He almost fainted as he felt her tongue slither along his ear while her hands rubbed his nape. But he knew this wasn’t all he wanted, he wanted her, not just her kisses, or her warmth or her passion, but her. It dawned on him, he could never possibly give her his everything, for she was his everything. And he wanted to tell her this. But of course, nothing gets past Hermione Granger, she already knew. Before he even had a chance to begin, she put one finger on his slightly open lips.

“There are no words for it, Harry, it is but a blessing.”